In love with a death god (Old version)
by Nahomi Yokai
Summary: (Being rewritten)
1. Prologue 1

_**WARNING: NOT WRITTEN BY A NATIVE ENGLISH SPEAKER.**_

 _ **WILL CONTAIN CURSES AND MIGHT (read: will) TURN MATURE AT SOME POINT.**_

 **Prologue**

 **Betrayal**

"So, how does it feel to be kneeling before your superior?"

"Superior?" A snarky voice came from the dark "Fool, he answers to no one, you Weasel"

"I didn't say you could speak, Malfoy!"

Screams resonated through the emptiness that were the Hogwarts Dungeons as one Ronald Bilius Weasley used the Cruciatus Curse on the once proud Slytherin Prince, or, at least, the would be prince, if it weren't this timeline. A body moved in the shadows, eyes cast to the ground but overall neutral-looking

"Stop it, Ron" His voice was still smooth, still entrancing, laced with the emerald and golden magic that characterized him. "Are you really that twisted to take pleasure in the screams?"

"If they come from Death Eaters like you guys, then yes"

"You sick fre-GHAA" Draco's voice cracked again as a short Crucio was sent his way

"I SAID STOP IT!"

For a moment, Ron's wand twitched, not because he did, but because the wand he was using wasn't really his. It was, after all, the elder wand, one of three Hallows that once had belonged to death itself, the most powerful offensive artifact and the wand that could do almost anything as long as the user had enough will and magic to go along with it, but first and uttermost, it was a wand, and they worked for whom they chose.

"Oh, Potter, just because you defeated the Dark Lord you think that you are all powerful, don't you?" Ron lightened up the room with a Lumos to see the mentioned male more clearly. "Harry. James. Potter… I don't get why all the girls at school were so fixated on you." The third person chained to the wall snickered slightly, but Ron made as if he hadn't heard her. "You are your parents' disgrace, you know? Not only did you not end up in Gryffindor, but you let yourself be corrupted by these slimy snakes. You made friends with all the wrong people, slytherins, lunatics, know-it-alls and cowards" Ron sighed, but he heard a chuckle.

"Disgrace? I assure you, they are very proud of me, Weasley. And even if they weren't, they are _dead._ " Harry lifted his head, staring at the redhead with a burning emerald gaze that made him actually take a step back, forgetting that he was chained with anti-magic cuffs "How can you disappoint those who are dead?" Ron dropped the wand and hit Harry hard in the face, making him turn his head and spit out blood, but the Potter heir made no sound...only to break into laughter.

"You've lost it…"

"Have I really?" Harry's wrist snapped to the side despite being restrained by the chains that bound him to the wall. Ron only had a brief moment to turn, wide-eyed, only to find himself face-to-face with Draco.

"What?"

" **Stupefy!** "

Ron barely managed to dodge, but Draco smirked as he held the elder wand that the redhead had dropped just a second ago. "Weasley, you should know by now that dropping your wand isn't wise, specially when you are in presence of its true owner."

Ron's expression was terrified, but it lasted only a couple of seconds before a smirk illuminated his features. "Wow, look who's really lost it…"

"Draco, behind you!" Luna warned, but it was too late, a green spell hit Draco square in the chest as he had turned around to try and defend against the attack; he fell, his face frozen in shock but his body like that of a rag doll, hitting the ground heavily, the wand rolled on the ground.

"Ron, my boy, what did I warn you about?"

"That they were powerful dark wizards, I'm sorry, headmaster, I was careless."

Dumbledore stepped into the light, making Harry growl in anger. The young male's eyes clouded as a memory assaulted him suddenly.

 _He stood in front of Voldemort, Horcrux free after they had gone to the goblins and let them transfer it to an object in order to destroy it. Draco and Neville had gone to kill Nagini while Luna and Hermione searched and obliterated Ravenclaw's tiara. Meanwhile, not two, but three armies faced off in the school grounds, the Death Eaters, the Phoenix Order plus a small group of students that called themselves Dumbledore's Army and, the third group that surprised the other two sides, the Black Knights, made up of grey wizards mostly, along with about half of the Hogwarts students and lead by none other than Harry himself._

 _But here, in the core of the forest, everything was silent, both the Dark wizard and the Chosen One stared at each other before they raised their wands, and used their pure magic to attack each other, no longer were they messing around with silly spells._

 _At once, two rays of energy launched themselves from the wands, one a mix of red and black while the other one was green. Fighting for control, they pushed and pulled, sometimes calling each other, sometimes fiercely ripping themselves apart._

" _Give up, Potter, you can't win against me"_

" _That's what villains say when they're about to lose!" Said Harry as his green magic slowly started to be tainted with golden glimpses. At the same time, everything about Harry seemed different, emerald eyes turning to golden, his black hair seemingly now a pure white, but worst was the shadow that loomed over the younger's body, with the same golden eyes and two hornlike figures on its head. The Dark Lord stared at the apparition with shock._

" _What is this magic?"_

 _The younger wizard said nothing as the pure magic that emanated from his body consumed Voldemort, leaving nothing of him. After that, everything fell back to silence; even the sounds of the battlefield had dulled out, or they might've actually stopped, the Death Eaters should be feeling the fall of their Lord, he honestly didn't know. He felt nauseous, probably because of the overuse of magic._

" _...Well, who knew it'd be this easy…" He wiped the sweat from his forehead. His few moments of victory were sorely taken from him, for he was hit by a red spell and, as he fell unconscious, he could only thing one thing..._

"Dumbledore." He growled, eyes flashing menacingly.

"Harry, my boy, I wish we didn't have to meet again like this..."

"What did you do to the rest of my family?"

"...Family?" Harry swore that the twinkle in the old man's eyes became brighter and he wanted nothing but to beat the lights out of those traitorous eyes. "You must be confused Harry… Your family's already dead."

"You know what I mean!"

"...Of course, I know. Ronald, could you leave us alone?" The Weasley didn't hesitate to follow the request, always the blind sheep.

"Yes, sir."

As the youngest of the red-haired clan left, Harry stared into the old man's eyes, trying to find a weakness, but finding none. It was difficult for people to be afraid when they had the upperhand. He could feel Luna's blue eyes boring into him in worry.

"What. Did. You. Do?"

"Now, let's not be too hasty, my boy."

"I am not your bloody 'boy', old git. You better tell me what you did to everyone or I'll-!"

"No need to get aggressive. They are here in the castle, some of them." The man's personality seemed colder "Some weren't very welcomed by my students, after all, they were dangerous dark wizards. Some don't even remember having been under your command."

"You…"

"Harry, calm down" Called the slightly aloof girl, but it was difficult when he felt so intensely.

"You monster, they did nothing to you!"

"But they would've, my boy. Alas, one shouldn't be sad for those who are dead, but rather pity those who decided to stay alive, especially the ones who strayed from the light...Now, some last words?"

"Fuck off"

Dumbledore rolled his eyes "So immature. We could've done so many things together, my boy." He lifted a hand and snapped a spell at Harry, a familiar, acidic green one.

He closed his eyes and braced himself, knowing that this was the end of the line. This was the moment when everything he had worked so hard to achieve was dissolved into nothingness. Still, he couldn't bring himself to feel remorseful.

But the blow never came, someone was in front of him, shielding him with their body.

"I-What? Luna? What did you do?"

"Now's not the moment Harry James Potter, I have limited time for this."

He looked at his surroundings. It seemed as if time itself had stopped, a drop of water stuck in the air. Then he noticed something else, he was free of cuffs. Luna bent down, picking up the elder wand and walking up to Harry with it and another familiar necklace in hand.

"What is happening, Luna?" He asked, trying to sound brave despite how tired he felt.

"...Listen well Harry, you only have one chance for this. I have come to give you a choice. Either you die here or you shall rise. Accept my gifts and I will grant you the power to obtain revenge."

He looked into her gaze. This wasn't Luna who was speaking to him. It might've been her body, her voice, but her right eye was a dull blue while the other was a bright golden, almost like a lit fire. She reached out with both hands, in one the elder wand and in the other the pendant that he himself had given to her in which the resurrection stone was embedded.

"What are you?"

"Time's running out, Harry James Potter. Choose. Do you want to end this life of yours or will you honor your mortal friend's wish and accept my blessings in order to be granted my power."

"But-"

"Now!"

"I…"He sucked in a sharp breath before exhaling softly. His eyes were unfocused, not looking at anything in particular"I do…"

"Perfect, close your eyes, this will hurt."

Before he got a chance to ask what she meant, white, hot, excruciating pain blasted through every pore in his body, he could feel it under his skin, as if a hundred of hot needles inserted themselves in his body or as if a strong venom was soaring through his veins. He opened his mouth to try and scream.

But he couldn't.

In his head, various images went off, so many in fact, that he couldn't comprehend what was being shown to him. Voices and noises pierced his mind as he fell to the ground once again, feeling as if he were about to be shred into pieces. He writhed in pain, trying to get rid of the horrible feeling of hopelessness. His body tensed and relaxed.

Blurry faces were shown to him and colors that his brain wasn't able to handle. He shut off from reality only to be thrown into another and another and another...

And only then did he wake up.

He blinked in an attempt to clear his eyesight and, almost as if in command, everything brightened up, at least to him. In the darkness, he heard the clicking of a tongue and the sound of a body being pushed along the cold, stone floor.

"Stupid girl, when did she loosen from the restraints?" Dumbledore huffed. "You are all young, stupid. You have yet to understand the full picture...not that it would've made any difference. Now...Where were we?"

Dumbledore turned and found himself staring into golden slitted eyes.

 **A/N:**

A bit quick paced for my liking, but still, I sort of enjoyed this prologue :D

So, what do you guys think? I've had this idea on my head for quite a long time ago and only today was I able to finish it up and upload it. I'm a bit of a sucker for the Avengers x Harry Potter Crossovers, so it was a matter of time before this happened XD

 **Edit (Day: 01/2018):**

I rewrote some parts of this chapter to improve it, but it is mostly the same. No need to read it all over again. I'm currently going on a corrective rampage for this story (And nothing can stop me, muehehehe!)


	2. Prologue 2

**Prologue 2**

 **Extermination**

The silence and darkness seemed to engulf everything around them, only broken with the soul-freezing sound of metal hitting the ground, Dumbledore blinked as he gripped for a wand, but his fingers only grazed the stone floor.

Sensing his intentions, unfocused eyes glared. A growl, almost feral in nature, came from the owner of the emerald eyes turned golden. The male, smaller than most of his classmates, seemed to tremble slightly, although not even Harry was sure if it was due to the cold of the chambers or if it was the pain.

His mind dulled any physical sensation, far too used to it when he was in this state. Instead, he was vulnerable against his own emotions. The raw hate, despair and grief hit him harshly when his eyes landed on the cold unmoving bodies of both Draco and Luna. He whimpered, hands forming into fists as he closed his eyes.

"Wake up..." His voice sounded soft, fragile. He crawled closer to them, shaky hands pressing against the fellow Slytherin's cheek. "Don't leave, please." He pleaded and Dumbledore wondered if the teen had finally crumbled under the pressure, because, although he had seemed angered with him a few seconds earlier, it was almost as if he was unaware of his presence. "Please. I-I'm not mad, please."

Truth to be told, had he been anybody else, the old man might've felt pity for the fallen Boy-Who-Lived, but alas, he didn't. Harry was the epitome of every failure of his, the fracture that shattered every plan that he had carefully built up to this point. Now, it was time to end this, to destroy the child who wasn't either light nor was he dark, only the perfect balance of magic. He lifted his hand towards the distressed boy, whose tears fell from his cheeks.

"Sorry...sorry, so-sorry...come back. "

'Don't worry, my boy, this will soon end…' Magic poured onto his fingertips, all he had to do was say the spell, it'd be for the greater good. " **Vitae exterminia** "

Tendrils of light floated soft, merciful, like white ribbons of magic, snaking towards the Potter heir. They wrapped around the kid's limbs, although he didn't seem to have noticed. The tendrils pulled and a second set of murky colored tendrils seemed to slowly seep out of Harry.

It was then that the golden eyes snapped up at him, but something was different about them, bare of the previous tears and hardened like the purest of diamonds.

His pale hand shot out, holding onto one of the white tendrils, making Dumbledore gasp in pain. The skin beneath Harry's hand sizzled due to touching the pure magic of the spell, yet he made no gesture to show that he felt it. The elderly wizard tried to dispel the magic, but he was stuck, unable to move.

"You know, old goat?" His voice was cold and unforgiving. Dread washed over his body in answer to the empty tone. "Using your magic like this...is very irresponsible." He pulled his hand down, tearing part of the flailing magic as if it was made of paper. Dumbledore let out a blood curdling scream and fall to the ground, gasping for air. Viperine eyes stared down at him whilst standing, a smirk on his lips.

"T-this i-is-"

"Impossible? A mistake? Don't get us wrong, old goat, it's not that we're ungrateful that you helped us survive for a while, but we kind of hate your existence."

His long, pale fingers clenched onto the Elder wand. It hummed into life and a familiar warmth filled every inch of his body. It was the same energy that ran through his veins when he went up against Voldemort time and time again. He started to laugh in a dry, almost dead way. The old man tried to stand and move away, but the wand was already glowing with power.

"You shouldn't tickle the sleeping dragon, you old bastard." He mumbled without emotions. "Now, how about a taste of your own medicine?" He needn't even speak the incantation, for his magic obeyed his command, shooting out, lacking the gentle and deceiving aura of the other wizard's spell. Instead, it showed its owner's real intent.

To rip the old fool apart!

Albus tried to cast a barrier, but the ominous magic managed to easily tear through it as if it was mere air. It latched onto him, pulling at the white tendrils aggressively. He gasped, twitching as fire soared through his body in response to the spell. Harry could only smile darkly as he swished his wand once more, summoning a soundless barrier and turning around, stumbling as if suddenly thrown off-balance. He blinked, looking at the floor, where two corpses rested against each other. His breath caught in his throat.

He froze, however, when an all too familiar voice came from beside him.

"Don't do it..."

It was only a whisper, carried through the wind, but he'd always recognize it. He looked around, but he noticed that there was no one there. A chill ran down his spine, letting him know that, while he couldn't see anything, he wasn't alone.

"D-Draco?"

"Stop it. Don't you dare do what you're doing."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't blame yourself." His chest felt compressed as if is heart was being squeezed.

"You're all dead, Draco, it _is_ my fault..."

At first, Harry thought that he had been left alone, since the voice didn't come back. He was proved wrong right away, as many silhouettes flashed before his eyes. It was brief, weak, but he managed to catch a glimpse of some people he knew, the family that he had made throughout the years and that had stayed by his side until the very end. And here he was now, alone, having left everybody down on his watch.

"Am...am I dying?" He asked, looking down at himself, body still sore and a constant pain in his chest.

"No..." This time, it was a bubbly voice who answered, easily placeable as Luna's. "You're still alive, Harry Potter."

"It hurts..."

"Sadly, such is the price of life."

"Please...I'm so sorry."

"There is nothing to be sorry for and there is no one that needs to ask for forgiveness other than Dumbledore."

He let out a choked sob and a small pressure applied itself onto his shoulder, almost in the form of a hand. He wished so badly that he could see them, that they'd come back and never leave again, but even magic couldn't defy that type of natural law. However, he felt a tug on his neck, making him look down at the necklace around it. He stared at the black stone, which pulsated with energy.

"Don't cry- _Harry_ " This time, the voice came distorted and even overlapped, as if it were two different people who were speaking. He reckoned that he didn't know who it was this time.

"Who…?" There was another flash and he caught onto both black and red hair. "Mom? Dad?"

"We're- _so proud_ -of you."

"The Resurrection stone can't-it shouldn't be able to-I mean..." The pain in his chest increased and his ears rung. He pressed his palm against his head. "What's going on?"

"...There were some...unexpected results." It was the blond Ravenclaw once more who spoke.

"Unexpected?"

The girl materialized finally, ethereal yet looking so alive. She gave him a sad smile, although it wasn't pitying, only…sad and defeated. Had he done that? Had he been the one to take off that dreamy grin from her face?

"I said, don't do that." Draco's voice was there, but he didn't appear.

"He's right, you know? Don't punish yourself, Harry, you've done nothing wrong."

"I did nothing _at all._ "

"You've done so much for more than just us. Take a break, Potter, let go of your anger." He could've sworn that the male might've rolled his eyes.

"There's something much more important right now and we're running out of time."

Harry forced himself to move. He cleaned his face with his torn sleeves, trying to clear his mind and think through the worsening pain in his head and back. He looked at where he felt a hand even if nothing was there and then back at Luna. There was urgency in her voice, something big was going on.

"Why can't I see you?"

"I... I'd rather you don't. You're hurt enough as it is." His fellow Slytherin admitted, for which Harry slowly nodded.

"Alright...what's the problem this time, Luna?" He said, using a cold, commanding voice despite his predicament.

"I can't tell much, but I can feel that something's very different about you, Harry. I'm not sure what the Hallows did, but they have physically changed you, if not mentally. _He_ is waiting for you."

"He?"

"Death." The golden eyed wizard stiffened.

"What does it want? Does it want the Hallows back? I'll gladly-"

"He wants his heir back."

"What does that even have to do with me?"

"Think, Harry, you're smart." Draco nudged him. "Think of what we learned from Gringotts, what you are, _who you are._ "

"A Gryffindor and a Slytherin...no, you mean a Peverell, right?" His eyes slowly widened. "I'm...his heir?" He whispered with horror. "Stop pulling my leg. Why does it really want to find me?"

"He's not- _joking, darling._ "

"Why do they sound like that?"

"They're too far away to be heard properly. That's not the point. Harry Potter, you are in danger. In this very moment, your magic is unstable and it won't be long before it...explodes."

"How do I stop it?"

"There is no way. You should just...get away from here. F-nd De-th and b- car-f-l."

"What? Luna? Wait, I can't hear you!"

She flickered away, almost like a candle blown out. He called out her name, then Draco's and his parents' but nobody answered. He bit his lip and gripped his wand, unaware of how the Resurrection Stone flared with life, orange lines ran through it, almost as if it had been cracked. He brought down the barrier and met with a lump of ashes. He growled and kicked the pile, the magical tendrils had already integrated back into him. He left the room, letting the castle itself guide him towards his destination.

By the time he stopped, he was shocked to find many people celebrating, a great part of the student body acting as if there hadn't just been a war going on. Even from where he was, he could see the cheerful expressions, so unlike the wary, sharp eyes that he had grown to know. The image just felt...wrong, out of place. His anger boiled and, without his friends' reassurance, the dark part of him lurked just underneath his usual facade.

He had forgotten, however, that his magic wasn't quite alright at the moment, and his body let out an invisible wave of said energy, making the earth tremble and all enchantments fail at once. All candles flickered off and the levitation spells were canceled, falling to the ground. The screams came soon after, others instantly fumbling to grab their wands.

"An earthquake, it's an earthquake!" Someone yelled in fear.

"Calm down, everyone!" The Gryffindor Head of House spoke up, lifting her hands into the air. "The castle is protected by magic, no little earthquake will harm anyone"

"Thank Merlin, I was worried that the ground would fail us" He said, casting a silent Sonorus so that his voice rose above the rest.

The earth shaking energy stopped and everything turned their attention towards the Prince of Slytherin. His eyes, pure as gold, scanned the population, heart squeezed by the realization that Albus hadn't been lying when he said that his family no longer remembered all the time they had spent together. He bit the inside of his cheek as to not show weakness and merely snickered.

"What? Cat got your tongue?"

"You traitor!" Okay, maybe it hurt a lot more than he had anticipated.

"What did you do to the Headmaster, you freak?!" His eyes narrowed at the youngest male of the Weasleys. He just wanted to get under his skin, so he wouldn't let him.

"Headmaster? Weird, I don't recall...oh...OH!" His eyes widened and, dare he say it, he was one fine actor. "Surely you don't mean that lump of dust in the dungeons?"

"Monster!" That was all that everyone needed to point their wands at him. He looked around one more time, staring at some of his comrades.

"I...see… so Dumbledore wasn't lying…" He mumbled, his eyes suddenly obscured by the hair on his face.

"What are you talking about?!" Ginny's voice was strong. He'd miss that.

"Oh, nothing of your concern, dear redheaded devil" Harry rose his wand "Now, tell me, what happened with the other Death Eaters or else-"

They didn't even let him finish.

Everyone had their wands trained on him, ready to fire. And fire they did, but not one attack graced him. He had been quick to cast a magical shield, most dispelling against it if not rebounding, hitting random people since the spells changed their trayectory. He shook his head and, without saying anything, he lifted the Elder Wand to his chest, Apparating out of the school bounds and doing several consecutive jumps until he arrived to an all too familiar house.

The darkness was starting to cloud the corners of his vision and his magic pulsated under his skin. He feared whatever was happening, but he didn't let said fear take over him. He hurriedly knocked on the door, or he had intended to, because it opened with an ominous creak. His breath caught in his throat and the energy in his body responded accordingly, vibrating stronger. He ignored the drowning feeling of power, forcing himself to step inside.

There were pieces of shattered glass on the floor, the wallpaper was torn and scorch marks were on the floor, clearly the remnants of spells being used and of resistance. Heart in hand, he called names with bated breath, going upstairs to check on the rooms, but no one was there. He felt another pulsation of magic and he fell to the ground with a loud 'thud'. His body felt like it was shutting down, but he couldn't let it be that way, for he still had things to do. He clenched his teeth in his mouth, stood up and looked around in despair.

"Teddy! Andromeda! Where are you?"

His frantic searching halted abruptly when his eyes froze on a piece of paper that was magically stuck to the wall. Probably some kind of restriction order, he didn't know, but he could see, as clear as day, three letters: MoM. Still, it didn't make sense, he hadn't laboured ill will towards the ministry...unless, of course, it wasn't them.

Harry's eyes glimmered yet again, stronger, brighter than any shade of amber or even golden, it was unnatural, almost the color of the sun. He felt a sharp pain on his back and his head once more. He tried to ignore the pain, but it wasn't an easy task. Still, he had a mission now, he couldn't let it weaken him.

He took one step and his magic exploded outwards, barely getting one meter away from him before it clashed back into him like a wave. He trembled, feeling his nerves become sensitive because of his magic. It became stronger on his back and he heard a crack just a second before a pair of wings, black as night yet covered in blood, sprouted from it.

He could only gasp and grunt, shaking his head to ignore the flaring pain. He growled, reaching a hand towards the powder next to the chimney, hands shaking as he tried to restrain his magic. He threw it towards the fireplace, mumbling out his destination and disappearing in a whirlwind of bright, green flames.

In the Ministry of Magic, a woman with a single, blonde strand of hair, was sitting on the floor, holding onto a bundle in her arms. She lifted her gaze, glaring at the chimney with confusion.

"He's coming..." She muttered with realization. Next to her, a witch was standing with her eyes slightly more opened and deranged-looking.

"What is this feeling?" The crazy witch whispered, feeling a sense of pure fear invade her. "Who is coming?"

"Who else? You took his family from him."

"But this power is too much! It's so light yet so dark..."

"Bella, he defeated the Dark Lord, this is the least one should expect from him."

As if summoned by her words, the fire-places of the floo system roared with life and thunder crashed onto the ground in the distance. Every witch and wizard in Ministry grounds was able to feel wave after wave of magic coming from there.

"Close the floo system!" Bellatrix shouted at one of the remaining Death Eaters, but Narcissa Malfoy could only smirk.

"It's too late, Bella. Never underestimate the determination of a broken man."

She turned away from the chimneys, covering the baby in her arms with her cloak and casted a protective barrier wandlessly. From the fire, a shadow emerged, rising slowly like a devil in midst of the flames. Behind the figure, the silhouette of wings and horns were clear as day. However, stronger than the fire itself, eyes glowed like the sun, painful to look at.

"Where is he?"

 **AN:**

 **Argos:** I'm glad you liked the first part of the prologue, I hope I am able to offer what you and the rest expect or more. About Draco...well, I actually debated about him for a while, because he's one of my favorite characters in the HP universe u.u but I decided not to because of how I'm writing this. Sorry! T.T

Thanks for the support for this story, guys, I wasn't so sure if it would be something " interesting to read, I'm glad that you decided to give it a chance ^#^ thanks a lot

BTW, this chapter was going to be longer, so I'm splitting it in two :3

 **Edit (Day 02/2018):**

This chapter was heavily edited. I think the biggest change was in the interaction between Harry and the dead because it fits a lot more with what I have planned for the story. Sorry for the inconveniences, though and thanks for reading this chapter!


	3. Prologue 3

**Prologue part 3**

 **Revenge and reveal**

A stunned silence reigned. Since there was no response, the figure stepped forward, eyes narrowing while still surrounded by the flames of hellfire. Everyone either flinched or tried to reach for their wand, but, as soon as they touched the wooden weapon, it would combust into acidic-green blazes, burning down to a crisp.

It took a couple of minutes for Narcissa to feel her voice come back to her. She'd recognize that magical signature anytime, for it was the one that belonged to her son's best friend. She smiled, feeling braver after the realization. She stood from the crowd, holding the baby tight to her chest and making sure that she was within the male's line of sight.

"He is safe, Harry." She said in a clear, relieved voice, unable to keep her cold composure for any longer. She stumbled backwards, however, when his eyes sharply turned at her.

The fire vanished, revealing to everyone the face of someone who didn't quite look like the Boy-Who-Lived that they knew. The golden eyes were one thing, but it was the least unnatural quality he had on him. The hair, previously completely black, was a pure white color. There were several pairs of pitch black wings on his back, folded for his own comfort yet tense, ready to attack. And then there were the horns, also black and sprouting from his skin pointed outwards like some sort of demon.

He took a step forward. And then another and another. The sea of people parted as one, letting the monster of shining eyes walk amongst them. He kept staring, almost as if he was looking through her and more at something behind or inside her. It was unnerving and, had this been another person, she might've actually fled.

Slowly, but surely, a low whispering started to rise through the Ministry. Many wondered what had happened to their savior and, while some were extremely grateful that he had decided to come, others weren't so happy about it. They shouted at him, ordering him to explain where he had been, why he had been hiding. The others either kept silent or started cheering for his arrival.

"It's our saviour, the boy who lived!" Some would say, with tears in their eyes.

The male, however, didn't pay them any attention. Had Narcissa not kept her gaze on him, she might've not noticed how they flashed red for a brief second before a low growl escaped his lips, menacing.

"Traitors." He whispered, yet it was somehow loud enough to be heard across the whole room, silencing everyone who had been speaking. "Thinking we're going to help any of you? Don't make us laugh..." His voice was harsher and colder than anyone remembered it being. "We're left to our own devices for seventeen years and how were we repaid? By being called liars...No, we're sick of it." The golden receded, leaving the emerald color once more. Wide, hurt and deranged emerald that still shone like they were casting the Lumos spell. "They're dead, all dead!" He screamed, making everyone step back in fear as they felt a wave of electric magic wash over them, even the Death Eaters didn't dare to do anything at the moment. "My friends, my family. Gone!"

Harry felt like he wasn't in control of his body. Like he was watching a film in the skin of a stranger. Inside him, his emotions boiled with vivid hate. His magic started to concentrate on the top of his head as well and even more on his back. His core, he could tell, was reaching the limit of how much magic it could contain...

"Listen, you selfish morons." He growled, going back to golden glowing eyes, though his voice seemed to echo with an ancestral power, unlike before. "I didn't come here to help any of you. Die, for all I care, I won't do a thing to stop it!"

The response was almost immediate. The cheers of hope turned to full-blown fury and confusion. The voices were a lot more desperate as they yelled at him:

"But you are the Boy-Who-Lived!"

"You saved us from You-Know-Who, you have to do something!"

"Stop it with those stupid titles, for Merlin's sake!" He bit back at them, sounding cold once more. "I have to do nothing. All of you were ignorant cowards who refused to listen to my words when I warned you that he had come back. You didn't listen to us, Slytherins, because we were supposed to be dark. And now...everyone is gone. Dead. My family. And what did you all do? Oh, right. Nothing!"

The magic that he had slowly accumulated, exploded like a wave of raw energy. This prompted the Death Eaters to act, taking their wands and immediately casting the darkest curses that came to mind, but, as if they were merely moths, the young wizard's wings snapped open and swatted at them, reflecting them like it was nothing.

Cries of fear and despair soon came from the people around him, but he kept walking, now faster, pushing those in his way and striking them down if they refused to move. He didn't care anymore. They had wanted him to play the villain for so long.

Well, here he was.

He froze when a wand was pointed directly at Narcissa's neck, but the witch quickly reacted by using her own wand to cast a protego spell, shielding the child with her body in case it didn't work.

He sighed right before a wave of unbearable pain assaulted his head. He gasped, fingers clawing at his own scalp. More images flashed, faster and faster. People screaming, blue and green lights ablaze. He wanted to scream again, but he couldn't. Blue eyes, green eyes, red eyes. Eventually, the images stopped, but he still couldn't move.

It hurt so much.

And then it happened. It was merely a second. He casted his gaze away to avoid being blinded by an overpowered Lumos and, when he glanced back at the Malfoy-Black Lady, she was in the ground, facing down. Above her stood Bellatrix Lestrange with her wide, detached eyes and empty grin, looking down at the bundle in her arms.

His heart sunk in his chest and he could only clench his jaw, glaring at her.

"Why?" She asked, pacing lightly. "Why come in the search of such a horrible monstrosity?" She shook her head. "You newer generations are such bleeding hearts, one might think you lot belong in Hufflepuff rather than in the proud house of Slytherin."

"Don't you dare touch him-"

"Or what? You'll kill me?" She cackled loudly "I don't think so, Potter, you wouldn't dare to hurt me when I have this thing in my arms."

"He's just a baby!" He tried an alternative route, but it proved to be futile.

"It's a werewolf. If anything, it should be grateful that I haven't gotten rid of him yet!"

"Don't!" Panic and desperation filtered into his voice inevitably as he felt another shift on his magic, closer to...well, he wasn't sure what it was close to, but it felt dangerous…"I'll do anything."

"Anything? Oh, I believe that you can do so much better than that, Harry, or are you capable of bringing back my Lord?"

"I...I can." He stuttered, biting his tongue to try and be as rational as possible. "And I will, but you will have to give him to me first-"

"Don't mock me, Potter. Everybody knows that the dead can only come back as inferi. If you know what's good for you, you won't try doing so." She hissed, taking out her wand and sticking the point to the child's head.

He clenched his fists, restraining a growl as he nodded, taking out the resurrection stone from his clothes, he held it out to her. "Put down Teddy and I'll use the Resurrection Stone to bring him back"

At first, this seemed to startle the Lestrange, however, her anger returned twice as strong. "You wish, Potter! You may be a filthy Half-Blood, but you still are a Slytherin! I know our methods!" She started cackling again "You're not the only one who knows the legend. That Stone...that stone can't bring back the dead! It's magically impossible! Now, get on your knees or I'll kill the mutt"

This time, he didn't even hesitate to drop to a kneeling position, keeping his eyes trained on hers, yet trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. With this crazed witch, predicting her movements was nearly impossible. She could do anything at a moment's notice...

"Now, beg."

"I… I'm sorry"

"Louder!"

"Gh…" He flinched, feeling another surge of magic reverberate through his bones. He tried to pull it back once more, but, if one looked closely enough, they could spot lines running across his skin. "I'm sorry! Please! Please, just don't hurt him!" He screamed, shivering and pressing his head to the ground in pain.

"...Isn't it wonderful?" She whispered softly, her posture relaxing and her gaze becoming melancholic. "The people who play heroes are so easily breakable...As fast as they rise, they fall and become less than trash, just by pushing the right button..."

"...What are you-?"

"Kill the spare." She muttered with void-like eyes.

"Bellatrix, no!"

It was like he was seeing everything in slow motion. Everything was quiet. Her hand made a small motion, whispering deadly words and letting the bright, green light illuminate everything. Shocked, he could only watch as she dropped the child, who made no noise of protest when he impacted on the ground.

And then there was the cackle.

The cursed cackle.

He hated it.

"Merlin! The look on your face is priceless! So hopeless, so...so...so broken...DO YOU FEEL IT, POTTER?! THAT'S HOW I FELT AFTER YOU KILLED MY MASTER!" There was no response from the wizard. "CAT GOT YOUR TONGUE, PITTY POTTER, HAHAHA?!"

Not one of the wizards in the Ministry dared to move, waiting with bated breath for the Chosen One's reaction...but he wouldn't move, wouldn't speak. He just stared. There were some who cried his tears, some who felt his anger, but not him. He was empty. He was alone. He had failed. Hehadfailedfailedfailedfailed.

A dark feeling washed over everyone, making Bellatrix stop in her tracks. She looked down at him, a shiver running down her spine as she recognized it from somewhere else. It was like the breath of a Dementor or the stare of a Thestral. The dark magic of her Lord or the stare of death itself.

"What...what is this?" She asked slowly, feeling as if she was suffocating in a black ocean.

"Yes...you're right." Emotionless, the voice pierced through the silence in the place. Not even the wind nor the fire made a sound, almost as shocked as the wizards.

Waves of raw magic started pouring out of him, out of every pore in his body. It was a fusion of colors in which black and blue were dominant. The first wave pushed everyone to their feet, but the overpowered magic acted like a quick magical poison that made people start to drop to the ground, unmoving. His skin cracked, the myriad of colors shining through the lines. The wail that left his lips, sounding like the scream of a hundred people at the same time, gripped their souls with fear. Somehow, they knew that this was it. Their end had arrived in the most unlikely form possible, the one of their saviour.

"As fast as they rise…they fall-"

The last thing Bellatrix saw, was a looming figure with white hair, black horns and deadly golden eyes that ripped her soul apart into pieces like a lion did to a piece of meat.

People tried to push against each other in order to find an exit, sometimes trampling others in their haste. As lives vanished into the air, three figures materialized a few feet away from Harry. Two of them were quick to run towards him, concern written all over their faces, while the last one could only look around in shock, with her black eyes as wide as can be.

"I don't understand...what happened? My lines never predicted this scenario!" She said with frustration. Unheard by her, however, was the conversation between the other two, which was drowned by the painful screams of the now-golden-eyed teen.

"We should've done something earlier." The only male growled lowly. "At this point not even I am sure if he will survive, Hecate"

"He has to." Was the only answer of the purple eyed woman who was by his side. She kneeled on front of the youngster, her hand hovering over him and glowing a dim silvery color. "You chose him, either he lives or he doesn't."

The male couldn't help but to glare at her coldness, but he couldn't really blame her after everything they had gone through. He felt just as tired as her with the exception that he had yet to truly lose himself. He looked back at Harry with sorrow in his own, golden eyes as the woman's hand faltered, threads of black seeping out once more from the younger one's body.

"I can't stabilize him, it will break, no matter what I do." Announced Hecate, panic briefly flashing in her eyes. The black eyed woman shrugged.

"Then let him die, the midgardian soul sea is vast enough to afford losing a soul or two or twenty."

"Skuld, letting it break could bring imbalance and-"

"I don't really care, Death. This isn't an Asgardian problem, you deal with this." Snapped the black eyed woman, looking annoyed as she lifted her hand. "Heimdall, take me back." She said before she disappeared in a flash of multicolored lights. The two other beings waited for a couple of minutes more before they both let out deep sighs.

"At last, she was getting on my nerves." The remaining woman muttered, snapping her fingers, making Harry's screams cease to be as he blacked out. Running a hand through her midnight hair, she turned to look at the white haired male. "Everything's settled, take him away before soul-eyes notices."

"Thank you, Hecate."

"Don't mention it. It's the least I can do after all of..." She gestured towards the now silent Ministry. There were no screams and no one was standing. Before them only laid a sea of people who didn't move or breathe. "This..."

"Of course." Death agreed as he kneeled down, taking the teen in his arms, who shivered at the cold contact. "My angels will be coming for the straying souls soon, I advise that you don't use your eyes in the meantime." But Hecate didn't let him leave just yet, placing a hand on his arm.

"Thanks. I...I know you don't really like me, but, for all it's worth, I really am sorry."

Death didn't speak beyond a sharp nod and a small 'Thanks' as the shadows around him enveloped both males, sucking them in and leaving only air instead. The purple eyed goddess could only look around her with remorse before she lifted her hand into the air.

"I really did make a mistake by giving these humans part of my powers, didn't I?" She whispered, letting her eyelids fall, closed. "Midgard might not be Vanir, but I'll be damned if any of my creations act like this without repercussions."

That night, every magical community the world could feel a small tug on the natural magic on earth. England, in their eyes, was burning alight like a second sun and, not soon after, all communication with the magical isles were lost, never to be heard from again.

 **A/N (Chapter edited on May 7, 2018):**

For the next chapter there will be a time skip guys :3 The reason I'm not updating them immediately is because I'm changing some things of the original ones, pardon the wait!


	4. Chapter 1

**Chapter one  
The lost soul of a Hero**

In the depths of his mind, he could remember distant words being whispered to him. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more..." it would say, helping him up from some sort of bed. "If I had done something about it sooner..." it continued, but the words would stop there, long lost in flashes and blurs that invaded him when he tried to think further back.

This was one of his earliest memories, for the rest felt darkened by some sort of veil that he could only sometimes cross. In his head, he knew that it was the voice of his predecessor, the voice of Death, who had mentored him for many years after he had been created -at least, that's how Hecate referred to his 'birth', ten years ago-. He couldn't remember much of that time either, only snippets of it.

He was taught that, as an avatar of death, concepts such as time were supposed to be impractical and inconsequential. Every day was merely a second in their existence and every soul was a cycle that would repeat itself eventually, a process that even the gods would sometimes have to go through after the thousands of years of life they were gifted by the original aspects of light and dark.

But he, Death would say, was different from the rest. He was special, something that had never been seen before. He thought that it had to do with the fact that, to him, time didn't feel quite as brief. Each day felt absurdly long and painful. Compared to the other gods, time was a concept that he was awfully familiar with.

Maybe, he thought, it had to do with the fact that he wasn't unaffected by the souls in the way that his creator was. Or, better said, he _was_ affected by them when Death wasn't. Every time that they visited a warzone to help the angels collect the souls, his heart would ache and his head would be filled with the sound of screams that would last even after the fact, ringing in his ears while he was resting and making his dreams become terrifying nightmares.

To calm himself down, he liked to look into the alternate universes where he didn't live as Death's protegé but as a human. Some were a little calming, showing him living a happy life, working at some shop or helping animals. Some were more intriguing. He became a creature of darkness, those that, in this life, he was told to watch closely so that he could cleanse their soul when they died.

Many, however...weren't reassuring at all. The other versions of himself would be lied to, betrayed, hurt and even killed in the most painful ways. Whilst watching these specific universes, a part of his memories would spike in protest, making him think that maybe, just maybe, he had lived a similar life.

With this idea in mind, he slowly started to recover some of the lost fragments of his past. He remembered people, mostly. He remembered some of his friends. Draco, a boy with blond hair and storm-colored eyes that always carried a handsome yet superior smirk, like he was always on top of the world. Luna, a dreamy girl with eyes full of stars who seemed to know more than what she let on. Neville, another boy who was the bravest he had ever known, who had never left his side, even when he faced his greatest fears. Hermione, a smart woman with incomparable analytical skills and the one with the wisest of words, always willing to speak her mind.

It was when thinking of these four that most of his memories resurfaced with the years. The next thing that came to mind were colors and strange names. Silver and green for Slytherins, the red and gold of Gryffindors, the blue and bronze of Ravenclaws and yellow with black for the Hufflepuffs. After a while of remembering these, he started to use the first pair in his clothes, since they were the ones with which he felt the most comfortable.

Although he had been a blank slate when he was created, his personality started to become a bit of every memory he could think of. He tried to act like those four people who he looked up to so much; if Death noticed these changes, he never really commented on them, if anything, he seemed to encourage it, giving him the occasional smile when he demonstrated one of the traits that he learned from the memories.

And then, there was magic.

Thinking about it made his head pound even more than before, as if something was warning him against remembering, but he had to. He had been feeling restless, feeling like a beast was trapped inside him, inside his veins, rushing and trying to break out. At first, it had been small and almost unnoticeable, ignorable if you will, but he could feel the monster yearning to be let out. When he told Death, he showed him how to control it and encase it in his body, though he never dared to do much more than that.

Two years ago, his mentor had disappeared, leaving nothing but his blessing and gifts behind. A stone capable of calling souls to him, a wand with the greatest of powers and a cloak that could distort light to hide him inside it. His personal favorite was the invisibility cloak, so he liked to wear it tied to his waist. After that, however, he only continued doing what he had been taught, feeling satisfied by the routine and easily getting lost in what little he could remember, managing to dull the screams of those he carried to the cycle.

Today, the day was not different from the rest. It had been almost a year since he had decided to somewhat settle in Afghanistan, one of the places where his help was most needed because of the ongoing war. He wasn't really fond of the heat, only managing to survive thanks to the cloak and the scarce use of the Elder Wand.

"Master." A distant voice called, but he was too busy walking to notice it at first. "Master!" He didn't show any reaction other than a small, empty glance to the side. There was a very nervous-looking angel staring at him, although he flinched under his emerald gaze.

"What?" He mumbled, seemingly apathetically, but, in truth, he wasn't used to dealing with the angels since they rarely spoke with him.

"Th-there's a problem with the souls." It started, speaking so fast that he barely had time to process what it meant. "There are a couple of them that, we noticed, are unaccounted for. We are unaware of how long it has been since they disappeared since the last time we took a look at the blessed souls was about ninety years ago."

He blinked and stopped walking completely, frowning in thought. The blessed souls were the most important ones under their care. They were always destined to fulfil great destinies and, with enough determination, they could even go against the currents of fate. It was their duty to protect them both as souls or as living beings regardless of the decisions they took because they were the ones that kept the tides changing -that is, until they accomplished their purpose-. Assuming a calculating persona, he drew a quick breath before speaking.

"Do we know who took them?"

"Not really, sir, but we did find Asgardian traces of magic in the area. We suspect that it might be Lady Skuld." The name didn't correspond to any face in his own memories, but he thought that Death might've mentioned her once or twice. Something about keeping a low profile?

"What can we do about this?" He asked softly.

"We are still searching for some of them, but, as one might expect, they aren't very difficult to find when looking into the right places." It started, pulling out some sort of file out of thin air. "It just happens that one of them was recently found not too far away from here, but we fear that the fates might've put it in a path of danger." It handed him the document, pulling its hand back as quickly as it could.

"I'll see what I can do." He said, opening it with uncertainty. He gave it a quick overview before glancing at the angel of golden locks and sunset eyes. "May I know your name?"

"It's Gabriel, Master."

"...Thank you, Gabriel."

"I-I…" The angel stuttered, confused. "I-It's nothing, Master of death." It gave a quick bow before shadows rose from the earth, engulfing it and disappearing. He did the same, feeling the coldness of darkness wash over him as he did.

Barely a second later, he stood in front of a new location, although he couldn't quite tell at first since it was still only sand. He would've dismissed it were it not for the fact that, when using a part of Death's power on his eyes, which made them turn golden, he managed to spot the weak whispers of one of the blessed souls. He wrapped himself with the silvery cloth that was on his waist and trudged forward, fearing the worst.

After a while, he found himself in front of a metal door. When peeking through it with his golden eyes, he saw that the soul was supposed to be there. Entering when one of the many people inside opened the door, he walked up to the bearer of the soul, deactivating his vision so that his gaze would return to normal.

In front of him was a man who looked in a horrible condition. He was resting, eyes closed but pale beyond belief, as if he had lost a lot of blood. There was some metal in his chest that was connected to a big block of metal that flowed with energy, probably some sort of battery. As he pressed the other's wrist with his fingers, however, he felt a steady pulse.

"He will live." A voice stated behind him, making him jump, after all, he hadn't expected someone to speak to him. "His vitals seem to be stable, but I did what I could."

As he lifted his eyes to understand who it was that could see even through his cloak, he saw someone who had his back to him. He was in front of a very small mirror, carefully shaving his beard or, at least, that was what he had been doing before speaking, for he had stopped, staring intensely at him through the reflection. It didn't take him long to notice how similar his presence was to that of his angels.

"...Who are you?" The person spoke after a couple of seconds of pure silence. At first, he didn't answer, but, when he did, it was in the form of another question.

"How can you see me?" The male turned around completely, frowning with confusion in his general direction.

"I can't. I can merely feel you." He said calmly. "Now, will you answer my question?"

"...Harry Potter." The emerald eyed male announced, although the name sounded foreign, even to him. When was the last time that he had even said it?

"So you're a new one." The statement took the Master of Death by surprise.

"New one?"

"A new angel. Do they tell you guys nothing before sending you over?" When Harry didn't respond, the man sighed and resumed his task, squinting to look at the dirtied mirror. "I'm Yinsen, although you probably knew that."

As a matter of fact, no, Harry didn't know that. He also wasn't aware of the fact that mortals could be able to sense him or other angels...But, by the way this man talked, he could guess that it was something that had been going for a while now, because he was more frustrated than bewildered by the disembodied voice..

"...When will he wake up?"

"I can't really tell...He's been asleep for a couple days now, he could be up any minute, now."

He nodded to himself and slowly sat down beside the unconscious man, shifting until he found a comfortable position. Once he settled, he took out the folder that Gabriel had handed to him in order to figure out more about his situation. The first thing that he read was this soul's name, scribbled with golden ink like the color of this specific soul. Anthony Edward Stark.

The name sent chills down his spine.

There were a couple of facts here and there. Where he was born, who his parents were, some important life facts and alike. Most of the hurriedly gathered information was about Yinsen. They had started contact with him about a week ago, giving him an angelic blessing so that he could listen to their voices and, every day, an angel would come to check up on them.

He set down the file and closed his eyes, trying to think of how to get this man out of here, after all, the old gods had told him that they were incapable of interacting with humans without severe consequences, whether they were good or bad was up to chance. For example: Lachesis, the goddesses that could see into the future, had given her powers to a select few who, in turn, caused great peril when making a prophecy.

The scion of death looked back at Anthony with his tired eyes, wondering why the man was connected to this huge battery...Whatever the reason was, it probably had to do with his weakened spirit, quickly recovering by taking part of the energy that inhabited the earth. The energy of life...or was it magic? It certainly felt a little like it…

As he started to doze off, deep in thought, a pair of blue eyes opened, shining, for a brief moment, as if they were fluorescent. As soon as the glow came, however, it disappeared, leaving in their stead a disoriented Tony Stark.

 **A/N: (Updated on May 14 of 2018)**

 **Woah, this chapter is vastly more different than the original, but this** _ **is**_ **how I wanted it to start so that the character fits more with what I had in mind. From this point on, many other things might change, although it will mostly stay the same...Hope you enjoy reading!**


	5. Chapter 2

**Chapter two**

 **Chorus of Death**

He could hear the rush of blood in his ears, but he didn't dare succumb to the overwhelming dizziness that threatened to topple their rash and last-minute plan. His brain screamed at him that this was crazy, suicide even, but he had long ago learned to ignore that voice in his head. This was their only chance to get out of this hellhole that they were forced to be in.

"Can you move?" His fist closed in response before he nodded.

"Okay, say it again." He mumbled, immediately citing off in his head the instructions at the same time as Yinsen spoke: 41 steps ahead, then 16 from the door. Fork right, 33 steps and a right turn. He heard their names being called, he could feel his heart beating faster with each passing second. They only needed a little more time. "Say something back to them."

"They're speaking in Hungarian, I don't-"

"Then speak Hungarian." He urged him.

He heard him speak loudly so that their captors could hear, but they answered shouting. The creaking of the metal door being opened was a lot louder than he remembered. Both of them closed their eyes, feeling a burst of heat coming from the entrance.

It was surprising how quick one's life could turn upside down. Just a week ago, he was on the top of the world. A millionaire with no sense of self-preservation, a party-soul who had no care in the world other than himself. Yes, to him, life was perfect, if a bit lacking, like something was missing but never managing to find it no matter how hard he tried.

He felt the change when he first woke up, seven days ago. Ever since he had opened his eyes, he knew that something wasn't quite alright. He hadn't known where he was, but, then again, that wasn't a new thing for him, was it? No, what was wrong was the fact that his chest hurt like a bitch, making him wake up with a start, quickly discovering that the reason for the pain was a freaking electromagnet stuck _in_ his chest.

From that moment onwards, things just seemed to cascade downhill. Not only were his movements limited by the car battery that was attached to the magnet, but _his_ weapons were in the hands of his captors, who had the gall to order him to make them a Jericho missile. At first, he had been adamant with his refusal, but a man can only take so much pain before he shuts down.

To be honest, he didn't quite remember much about what happened during the hours after that, but it left him feeling a deep sense of despair. His fellow captive was quick to notice and, as if saving his life was his specialty, he renewed his feeling of hope. The words still echoed inside him even now. "Is that how you want to go out?" The words sparked a hint of annoyance inside him. "Is this the last act of defiance of the great Tony Stark?"

And, like that, a plan came through to him. An image, both brilliant and absolutely crazy, flourished in his mind like a beacon of hope. It would take time and a lot of materials, but it was doable if they were careful. He took a deep breath and got started right away, intent on showing these bastards why one just didn't mess with Anthony E. Stark.

After all, when you play with fire, you're just asking to be burned.

First came making a miniature sized Arc Reactor to improve his mobility. It wasn't that difficult, he had built a bigger one before, it was a matter of making it a lot smaller. Surprisingly, Yinsen proved to be a very good assistant, eagerly following his instructions and capable of making small talk when necessary, which was a first for Tony, who was used to working alone.

After the shiny battery-replacement was introduced into his chest after a full day of work, came the difficult part. The idea was to build a suit that was capable of resisting bullets -well, it was more of an armour due to the tight schedule- but it should also be capable of sustaining flight in order to succeed in their escape.

He blinked as he realized that the light of the explosion receded, bringing him back to reality. He looked at Yinsen from his place inside the chestplate that let the glow of the Reactor shine through in an oddly ominous fashion. This had the function of letting him see clearer since the suit obscured his vision considerably.

"How'd that work?"

"Oh, goodness...it worked all right" The man mumbled before he kept on helping him put on the rest of the equipment. "Let me finish this."

"Initialize the power sequence." He ordered, noticing that the other was starting to become more and more nervous. He knew that, if the sequence wasn't uploaded in time, the rest of their efforts would fail entirely.

"Okay. Tell me what to do."

"Function 11, tell me when you see the progress bar." Tony felt something shift beside him, just inside of his peripheral vision, but he didn't have time for distractions, because the next part was important. "It should be up right now-"

"Yes. Yes, here it is!"

"Good. Press control 'I'"

"Got it."

Tony recited what he had to type, tearing his eyes from the computer and staring at the open door. Distantly, he could hear shouts and hurried footsteps. It was a matter of time before they arrived. He snapped out of his stupor when he felt his fellow captive come back in order to keep on assembling the several pieces that made up the suit.

"They're coming."

"Just do every hex bolt."

"But-"

"Just do it!" Yinsen's jaw clicked shut at Tony's desperate exclamation. He nodded and screwed the bolts in, which was not a quick task when doing it by himself, evidenced by the few ones that weren't screwed in all the way. "When I go out, make sure that the checkpoints are clear before following after me." Yinsen looked up at him and then back at the computer with a frown.

"...We need more time."

"Hey-"

"I'm going to buy us some."

"What are you-no! Stick to the plan."

Yinsen ignored his instruction, walking past him and picking up a discarded gun from the floor. Tony's mouth felt dry with anxiousness, but, no matter how loudly he called for the man, he couldn't erase the determined glare that his eyes now held. Like a madman, Yinsen spoke up, but the armoured male was pretty sure he wasn't referring to him, because he was looking past him, as if there was someone right behind him.

"Angel of death, I know you are told not to interfere, but I have my death wish ready."

"Yinsen, what the hell are you talking about?!" There was no answer because, as soon as he finished speaking, the man had run off. "Yinsen! YINSEN!" Tony screamed until his throat felt raw, but he could tell that he wasn't coming back. He looked back at the computer, the loading bar just reaching fifty percent.

This had to be a nightmare.

"That human, speaking as if he knows anything at all..." A voice spoke beside him and, although it almost gave him a heart attack, he couldn't see where it came from. What was happening? Had he gone mad? "I am going to regret this so much...but it _is_ my job."

As if to answer his question with a 'yes, he had positively lost it', he felt a tug on his wrist created by the tightening of the missing bolts around it. The papers that made up the sketch of the suit shifted as if someone was looking through them, but he couldn't see anyone, no matter how hard he looked. Whoever it was, however, kept muttering 'what am I doing?' over and over again like some sort of mantra.

A couple of minutes and a fully assembled suit later, the progress bar on the computer reached a hundred percent, making the lights flicker on and off many times before they were left in absolute darkness. The voice had gone silent, either startled by the blackout or simply having disappeared, having never existed. Tony let out a trembling breath, genuinely shaken by whatever had just happened, yet also fueled by the rage that filled every centimeter of his body.

He pulled at the cables that connected him to the computer before he put on the suit's helmet. The sound of a couple of heavy footsteps came from down the hall, but he feared no longer. With adrenaline pumping through his veins, he waited, one of his hands clenched into a fist.

It wasn't difficult to spot the first one that came in thanks to the shadows he created thanks to the light of the entrance. When he took out the first one, however, a barrage of bullets covered the air and, although he was confident that they wouldn't be able to pierce any of the plates, he didn't want to risk it. He waited for a couple of seconds, but, when they lowered their defenses just a bit, he attacked.

None of the men could see his face, but he sported a crazed grin and eyes filled with hurt as he punched them with his heavy, animalistic movements. He didn't dare to stop, advancing in the search of the other captive, hoping that he had somehow managed to escape despite how unrealistic the idea sounded.

Like a monster, he barreled through anyone who dared stand in his way and, although his mind was muddled with hate, he didn't forget to count each and every one of the steps he took before taking the right path in the forked path. He didn't hear the hurried huffs or the small grunts of pain that followed right after him.

It didn't take long for people to take a hint and start fleeing on sight. Not even doors were able to restrain him, for he had the strength to plow through them as if they were almost paper.

His vengeful rage stopped as he heard coughs not too far away from him. With hawk eyes, he scanned his surroundings, only to find the man who saved him leaning against some sort of sack, unable to stand up because there was something else on top of him.

"Yinsen!" He said with relief, but he had barely taken a step when the other shook his head, wide eyed.

"Watch out!"

He barely reacted in time to move out of the way. Turns out that he had no need to, because the projectile aimed at him blew up mid air, as if it had suddenly his a wall. As the dust of the blast cleared, he spotted two figures. One had its hands held up and it's back to him and the other was their captor. He didn't need to think twice before he activated the small missile that he had installed into his arm guard, hissing a little from the recoil as it his the stone wall, knocking out the male who brought so much pain and suffering onto many.

Deciding that Yinsen was more important than the small figure in front of him, Tony hurried to his side, pushing one of the sacks off him and kneeling as he opened the front of the helmet.

"Stark-" The wounded one gasped, although he didn't look at him.

"Come on, we have to go." He said, but Yinsen didn't move. "Come on, move for me. We have a plan we-we have to stick to." He urged, but the sickening feeling inside him grew tenfold.

"This was always the plan, Stark."

"What about your family, then? Stand up, I'll take you to them!" The weak grim smile that Yinsen gave him was enough to freeze him for a moment.

"My family is dead." He whispered, still staring at something that was behind him. His smile grew a tad bit wider. "I'm going to see them now, Stark." He took a deep breath as he winced. "I'm ready."

"Please-"

A shadow obscured the doctor's face, making Tony react by throwing his fist behind him in a punch, but it was easily caught by the small figure that he had dismissed earlier. It was staring right at the man who had saved his life with its golden eyes, shining so bright that it hurt to look at them. Tony found himself unable to speak and feeling as if a cold hand was gripping his beating heart.

"Are you really ready?" It asked and the heir of the Starks didn't even notice when he had been pushed aside, letting the short person step completely in front of the fallen captive, its appearance mystical when an invisible gust of wind seemed to pick up out of nowhere, revealing small horns on top of its head.

"Yes." Yinsen muttered before he turned at Tony with another smile, but it spoke differently than the others. It was neither sad nor full of despair. It wasn't pitying or snarky.

It was completely hopeful and peaceful.

"It's okay, don't worry." He said with a raspy voice. "I want this." He whispered, closing his eyes with a sigh. "I really want this." Although, Tony's mind didn't fully comprehend what was going on, he could tell that this was the end of the road for the other. He took a shaky breath and nodded.

"Thank you. For saving me."

"Don't waste it. Your life." Another fit of coughs attacked Yinsen, making his shoulders shake with pain.

The figure kneeled down, taking Yinsen's hand into its own and closing its eyes. Before Tony's disbelieving eyes, its hair changed into a snow white coloration and pitch black wings sprouted from its back, so many that he was unable to count them. Along with the transformation, came a shift in the atmosphere. No longer was it cold and frightening, but it brought a feeling of utmost warmth and care.

And there was a song. It sounded unnatural yet alluring, filling their chests with content. It was like a thousand voices sung a lullaby in an old, forgotten language. A beautiful choir that chanted to soothe their pain and anger, to wash away their anguish and despair.

"I, the Master of death, heed your call, blessed one." The figure said with a powerful yet gentle voice. "The wish you hold will be fulfilled. Now rest and know that I will make sure that your soul finds its way to its place of rest." It spoke before it gave him a tender smile, placing a hand on Yinsen's chest. "Your family awaits."

A light blinded the only witness of the scenario in front of him. When it dimmed and the million voices quieted, Yinsen wasn't breathing any longer, but his eyes were closed and, in spite of the lack of a smile, he could tell that he felt happy. Almost as if he had died in his sleep. Almost.

The figure turned to look at him with a calm stare, in its hand a single, white marble. As it walked in his direction, his instincts told him to flee, but, for some reason, he could tell that it wouldn't hurt him. It leaned down, picking up what seemed a piece of silvery cloth, which he wrapped the marble with.

"Come." It whispered, white hair quickly turning an inky black but its eyes retaining their golden color. "We're leaving."

"...Who are you?" He managed to breathe out. The figure -a young man- shook its head and lended him a hand.

"As I said before, I am the Master of death, my name isn't of importance at the moment." He said, placing his palm against the cool metal of the suit. "Just know that I will keep you safe."

By the time that the shadows rose and swallowed the pair, Tony had been knocked out cold

 **A/N (Updated on May 24, 2018):**

 **Man, at this rate I'm writing a slightly different story...Oh, well, guess you're all here with me for the ride! Mwahahahaha! Anyways, thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read my story! I really love reading your reviews :D**

 **Btw, I might have to double the time I expected to not post new chapters since this is taking a lot longer than I expected (What did I expect, it did take me like a year to post eighteen chapters!). Besides, I just started trying to make an animatic, so that's also taking a lot of my time. Sorry for the inconveniences!**


	6. Chapter 3

**Chapter three**

 **The golden eyed mutant**

Blue eyes opened in a startled motion, thoughts running wild in an attempt to make sense of where he was. The scent of dust and humidity was strong, unlike the place where he had been imprisoned for what felt like an entire lifetime even though it had been just under a week. Still, he relished in the feeling of cool sheets and soft mattresses that felt like bliss on his tired body.

It took his mind a couple of seconds to fully calm down before the memories slowly flooded his head, awakening him completely like a bucket of ice-cold water to the face. The heat, the desperation, the confusion, the plan, it all came to him. To be honest, he almost wished that it hadn't, because he also remembered Yinsen. The one who had saved his life...probably more than once. He remembered his still body, resting against sacks and dirt.

He remembered that he was gone.

Of course, what made him anxious was the memory of shining golden eyes that came to his mind when he thought of Yinsen. The male had referred to himself as the 'Master of death'. He was sure that what he had witnessed hadn't been any kind of dream, it was far too wild for it to be a joke from his sober imagination. Whatever the person had done, it had frozen him in place as he...well, he struggled to comprehend _what_ it was that had happened, but recalling the event sent shivers down his spine. Such raw power felt almost impossible for any normal person to wield.

His brain supplied an easy explanation for the unnatural phenomenon: Mutants. He had never paid much attention to the carriers of the X-gene, but it was inevitable to hear from them every now and then, the media made sure to always put them in the worst of lights and, being who he was, he was used to not paying attention to the lies they spiraled in order to get the best story. However, now he wished he had, because he knew next to nothing about this mutant of golden eyes and black hair and, for all he knew, he could be trapped in the house of some serial killer.

He forced himself into a sitting position, deciding that he wasn't going to rest any longer. Besides, although he didn't trust the stranger, Yinsen seemed to have known him. He did remember that he had spoken to some angel before running off and the stranger did have wings. That didn't mean he'd lower his guard anytime soon, but he was tired of not knowing what was going on. He tried to touch his surroundings to locate himself, noticing that one of his arms ached, as it seemed to be restrained in some form. Using his free hand, he touched the object in an attempt to take off what was holding him back, only to feel cloth that carefully wrapped his arm in a makeshift cast.

He was more surprised by the fact that someone had actually tried to heal him more than by the fact that he had broken an arm.

Either way, he didn't need both of his hands to feel his surroundings, the cold of a wooden piece of furniture easily identifiable as he reached to his side. Careful not to trip, he stood up, resting his weight on a nearby wall against which the small nightstand was placed. Thankfully, the room wasn't entirely dark, since dull light filtered through what looked like curtains in addition to the blue glow of the Arc Reactor. Further inspection confirmed that, yes, these were curtains and very silky too. He pulled them open, gasping at the bright sunlight that invaded almost every inch of the room.

He let his eyes adjust to the new lighting before he looked around with narrowed eyes, taking in the grey walls and wooden furniture. In spite of it being obviously old, everything looked extremely expensive, almost like one would imagine a castle bedroom to look like centuries ago. He spotted his shoes, neatly placed on the floor beside the bed. Seeking to try and guess his location, he looked out towards the street, but it was completely barren, the concrete broken by sprouting plants. Everything just gave off this abandoned vibe.

He jumped at the sound of the door clicking open, turning around so fast that it made him slightly dizzy. Instead of hostility, however, he was filled with confusion at the...creature that stood on the entrance, who blinked at him with just as much surprise. It gasped before it disappeared, leaving behind a very confused Stark.

"What was _that?_ " He mumbled to himself, uneasily looking around the room, half expecting the small monster to reappear. Truthfully, it wasn't a scary creature, but it was startling nonetheless. With it's bat-like ears and tennis ball-sized eyes, it was like it was taken right out of a fairytale. A very messed up, terrifying fairytale.

Turns out, he needn't wait for long, because the creature had appeared at the door a couple of minutes later, looking extremely apologetic.

"Dobby is very sorry for leaving out of nowhere, Anthony Stark, sir." It spoke with an annoying high-pitched voice. "Master says that Dobby is to take you to the dining room if you is hungry, sir." It takes Tony a second to process what it says, but when he does, he is quick to fire the questions that bothered him the most.

"What are you? Where am I?" He muttered warily. The creature doesn't seem to mind the rudeness of his words, all too eager to answer.

"Dobby is a house-elf, sir." It bows curtly in an awkward greeting. "You is in the Black manor, also known as 12 Grimmauld Place." It said in an absolutely-not-helpful way. Instead of trying to ask again, Tony puts on his shoes, eyes never leaving the elf, fearing that it could attack him.

"Dobby..." He said carefully. "Can you tell me where your…'Master' is?"

"Master of Death is in the dining room, sir! Does you want to go there?"

"Yes."

"Then you has to follow Dobby, sir. Master of death has asked that you does not apparate until you has been debriefed."

Tony was quick to walk towards the room's entrance, keeping a slight distance away from the elf, eyes narrowed at it. Was this another mutant? Physical mutations weren't unheard of, but they usually had some visible functionality. This one didn't look like it did, other than attracting attention because of its -his?- looks. On the other hand, he seemed to have some sort of invisibility or teleportation. He was willing to bet it was the latter.

As they stepped into the hallway, Tony was surprised by how empty everything looked. There was next to no decoration other than some portraits that pictured people who all shared the same dark eyes that ranged from greys, blues to pure black. That, along with the monotone grey walls, made the building feel overall boring. He wondered if, should he try to open the other doors, the other rooms would be just as bare.

"Did they call it black manor because of the colors?" He whispered to himself, surprised when the elf turned his head to look at him with its big eyes.

"Not at all, sir. The Blacks were a powerful family back when Master of death still lived in this place, everyone knew about thems."

"If they are so big, how come I've never heard of them?" He asked with surprise. How old could that short male be? He gave him twenty at most…

"Were, sir. The family died out about ten years ago. They was very secretive, Dobby would be surprised if you knew who they were." He motioned at the pictures. "Thems were some of the last Blacks to live in this place. During the war, Master of death offered the other housing to the other branches of the family, so the Malfoy House was added to the walls." Dobby explained while pointing to a single frame which had the picture of a blond family that stared down at them with contempt.

"Where are they, then?"

The elf's mouth clicked shut as it shook its head quickly before it sped up downstairs, making sure that Tony was following not too far away. Thankfully, the path to the dining room wasn't much longer. The place wasn't as big as he had first expected it to be, although it wasn't small by any means. They entered another hall before they stopped right in front of a pair of black wooden doors. Dobby knocked, nervously waiting for an answer from the inside.

"Yes?" A quiet voice carried through the black wood. It was familiar enough for Tony to recognize it as the golden-eyed mutant's voice, but it lacked the booming power that he remembered from the caves.

"Dobby has brought Anthony Stark, Master of death, sir."

"Thank you, please come in." The elf nodded to itself and pushed the doors open, letting him enter first before following right after.

Instead of penetrating eyes staring into his soul from a seat, as Tony had sort of expected, the short male was standing up, back openly towards both of the newcomers since he wasn't on the dining table but in the kitchen section of the room. Dobby made an alarmed squeal and dashed to the person's side, pushing him away from the stove.

"Master doesn't need to be in the kitchen, Dobby cans take care of it!"

"I don't really mind-"

"Master of death should sit down, sir, Anthony Stark is waiting for yous. Don't worry, Dobby is very good at cooking."

"I...I don't doubt it, Dobby. Don't overdo it, something light is fine."

The male walked back towards the table, head tilted down as he ran a hand through his long, messy hair in an annoyed gesture. The mutant pulled out a chair near him and took a seat before gesturing for Tony to do the same. He then spoke in a drawl, like he was either tired or bored of this place, which was understandable.

"I'm afraid that you'll have to wait a little longer, Stark. I didn't think you'd be up so soon. I underestimated the human body's resilience." As he lifted his head, the millionaire was stunned into silence as he found himself subjected to blank, green eyes, not the overwhelming golden suns that were firmly ingrained in his memories. "...If you are still tired, you can rest. There's no hurry."

"I'm not." Tony quickly snapped out of it, hand clenching into a fist. "I want answers." The statement drew a sigh from the male.

"Alright." Was the short response he received as the person rested his head on his hands, head lolled to the side as a sign that he was slightly interested in what he had to say. "Though I can't promise that I can answer all of your questions. What do you want to know?"

"Who are you?"

"Well, I _am_ the Master of death...but my name is Harry Potter, if that's what you're asking."

"Harry?" He muttered to himself, finding the it rather...lacking. No wonder he went by such a dramatic title, his name was just too plain in comparison.

"Yes, that is what I said. Anything else?" The male said with a small smirk appearing on his lips.

"What did you do to Yinsen? What mutant ability do you have?" Like that, the smirk disappeared, being replaced by a confused frown.

"I'm not a mutant."

"Right, and I was born yesterday." He rolled his eyes, slowly feeling braver in the face of possible danger, which was probably triggered by his time spent in captivity. "Listen, if you can't tell me what it is, I don't care, but people don't just grow wings like that-"

"Again, not a mutant, Stark. As to what I did to Yinsen, I'm not sure of what you are talking about." The utter denial made the anger that Tony felt grow tenfold.

"Then what about the song? The bright light? Before you did that, Yinsen was still alive." He bit back, making Harry tilt his head up in thought and confusion.

"I'm sorry, I...genuinely do not know what you speak of."

It was almost the same as speaking with the damn elf, Tony thought with both annoyance and frustration. He wasn't getting any answers and, what's worse, he was starting to believe that the emerald eyed male wasn't lying when he said he didn't know despite him knowing that he had been right there. Instead of pursuing the route that, he knew, would provide nothing, he decided to ask another thing.

"Alright, say I believe that you aren't a mutant, which I don't. What are you then?"

"I don't think you'd believe me even if I spoke the truth...Isn't there something else that you want to know?"

"Nothing that I can't ask once you answer. Try me, you might be surprised of how much bullshit I'm willing to put up to."

"I somehow doubt that, Stark, but fine." Harry mumbled with a hint of defeat. "I am a god."

For a second, Tony thought that he had heard wrong, but the statement had been said loud and clear enough to make him doubt that it was a lie. He stayed quiet for a couple of seconds, trying to wrap his head around it and failing miserably. He ended up glaring at the short male, who flinched in response.

"Yeah, you're right, I don't believe you." He started apathetically. "Gods aren't real."

 **A/N (Updated on June 6, 2018):**

 **Changed some things around, hope you enjoyed this new chapter. As you might be able to tell, this is going to take a while to update completely...Anyways, thanks for reading this chapter!**


	7. Chapter 4

**Chapter four**

 **Strings of fate**

Harry took a small breath, feeling inwardly anxious because of the other's glare. The words 'I don't believe you' made him feel a sense of deja vu and it brought up a hint of annoyance as well. He reminded himself that humans were bound to not easily accepting claims that brought into question their beliefs and, although the self-reassurance calmed him a little, he still felt slightly upset. He was an avatar of death -'a Slytherin' his brain supplied- he _had_ to be calm and collected.

"I know you don't." He said, easily offering a fake smile in spite of how he felt. "You are a man of the future. Gods are a matter of past, faith and belief. The concept of our existence is something that goes against your very nature, isn't it? But what you believe doesn't affect the fact that what I say is the truth."

"Look, smartass. Even if I _did_ believe that gods were real -which I already said I don't- what would that even mean? That you have superpowers or something? So what? Mutants have them as well. That you are superhuman? Sorry, but the existence of the super soldier serum isn't a secret to anyone."

That Tony was right didn't make Harry's job any easier. In truth, not even he knew what being a god actually was. Not only was he technically a newborn deity, but he wasn't truly divine either. 'Stop, having an identity crisis won't help' he thought to himself, letting his smile drop ever-so-slightly.

"There is something I can do…" He mumbled without thinking. He tried to backtrack as soon as the words left his mouth. "I mean-"

"No, no, go on. How _can_ you prove to me that you're a 'god'?" Needless to say, he was surprised by the curiosity, completely expecting Tony's immediate rejection. Something must've changed in his expression, because the male frowned. "What? That I don't believe you doesn't mean that I won't at least listen. Tell me, what can you do?"

"It's...not something easy to explain." He stated, picking his words carefully. "I am unaware of how much you know about mutants, but it is known that mutations can't actually be transferred other than through birth." Tony nodded in agreement.

"That much makes sense. Their abilities are created thanks to the X-factor chromosome, to pass it to someone else you'd have to somehow replace their DNA with yours."

"Exactly. Not only that, but mutants are born slightly different to be able to use their abilities without immediate backlash. Their bodies are built to suit the factor. Mine, however, isn't tied to genetics. I can freely give part of it to someone if I so desire and, should you give me permission, I'm willing to demonstrate it."

He could tell that the Stark was immediately wary of him after that sentence left his mouth by the fulminating gaze that he gave him. He could understand where it was coming from, he was, by all means a stranger...He tried to guess what he was thinking, but he wasn't by an expert at...well, emotions.

"Ah, sure, why the fuck not?"

"Wait, what?"

"You heard me. If you wanted to hurt me you could've easily done that while I slept and you did try to help me with my arm." He motioned to the cast and shrugged. "Besides, if you wanted anything from me, you wouldn't be this obsessed with making me believe you are some kind of god. What do I have to do?"

"Nothing at all, actually." He pushed his chair back, walking around the table. "I will, however, need to be in direct physical contact, since it is easier to transmit the energy that way." The other visibly tensed, but wasn't telling him to stop or to move away yet. He did, however, stand up and adopt a slightly defensive position, with his injured arm shifted away from him.

"Alright, but don't try anything funny, you brat." The godling huffed a bit at the demeaning name, but he didn't act on it, instead he stopped just a few feet away from him. Harry lifted his hand and placed it on Tony's cheek. "Woah, hold on there, what did I just say?"

"I'm trying to concentrate here, please don't speak."

He rolled his eyes and closed them as he focused on the unique feeling of Death's blessing in the midst of his invasive magic. Said focus came with the side effect of exposing his wings, but, from what he had heard from the Stark, he had already seen them, so there was no case in hiding them. Death's power was cold, almost like a breeze of winter when you're right in front of a fire. Before it could even race towards his eyes as it was used to, however, he redirected it to his fingers, letting the stream of energy flow right through them.

A sharp gasp from the person in front of him made Harry open his eyes with worry. .Tony had yet to move away, frozen in his place. There was a dull sting in his shoulder, bringing him back to reality fully. The other was gripping him harshly, probably in a weak attempt at either pushing him away or grounding himself. Faintly, he wondered if he had somehow hurt the other one.

"What...what's this?" Tony whispered, golden eyes staring at everything as if trying to take it all in. To be honest, the godling could relate to the overwhelming feeling that they provided. Back in his apprentice days, Death had often used this technique to let him borrow his vision to see _everything,_ even if just for a couple of seconds. He had never personally done this, but he had gone through it enough times to imitate it confidently.

" _That,_ Stark, is the gaze of death." Harry said with a small nostalgic smile on his face, as he knowingly repeated the words that his mentor had once spoken. "But, what you are seeing, is life."

That was an overly simplified version of what he was actually seeing, because explaining this unique sense of sight was complicated, even to those who possessed it. It was like seeing the world with a different light, an infinite palette of colors that were constantly changing like some sort of magic show. Actually guiding oneself with it was a matter of years of practice under the proper tutelage and, even then, he was only capable of seeing so much, specially in a place so full of life like Earth was. Truthfully, the golden eyes were extremely unreliable unless you were looking for something in in specific.

After a minute more, he pulled the wisps of energy back into himself, lest he give Tony a headache from the overflowing input. He was hit with a wave of tiredness, as if his energies had been completely stripped from him. As he pulled his hand back, the man blinked at him, looking both confused and disappointed at how muted everything felt right after experiencing death's sight.

"How does that even work?" The male wondered out loud, staring absentmindedly at his wings, making Harry feel a little self-conscious. "Everything was so...different and colorful."

"Yeah..." He stepped back, wings folding tightly against his back. "That's how it has always been."

"Do you know what any of it means?"

"I do." He muttered, pulling out one of the nearest chairs and plopping himself down on it, resting his head on his arms. He shifted to accommodate his wings, laying them on the backrest. "I'll be the first one to admit that everything is quite confusing, though..."

"What are the golden lines?" He asked excitedly, not noticing just how exhausted the other one looked. "They are tied to everything, are they special?"

"Those are destiny lines." He tilted his head ever-so-slightly to look at him. "They belong to the goddess of fate, Lady Skuld. I'm surprised you noticed them, they are extremely thin." The answer didn't seem to satisfy the Stark.

"Fate? As in 'you don't make your own choices' fate?"

"Well, not...exactly. People can choose what fate they want to follow, but she's the one that oversees each and every path you are expected to take. She often tries to influence the events of the present to reach her desired results, though."

"That doesn't sound any better."

"I...sorry?" Tony finally took a seat as well, shrugging off his apology and looking deep in thought. "So...you believe me now?"

"I have to, don't I? I personally don't think that you actually are a god, you don't seem omnipotent, omnipresent and you certainly are not all-knowing, but I am not an idiot as to not see that you are something else. Consider me sold on your little story." Harry nodded and buried his face on his arms, feeling his own eyes hurt from the bright light that illuminated the room. "I do have a question, though. Why were you with us. Don't you have more important things to do, Mr. god of death?"

"...'ts part 'f my job." He mumbled, voice slurred slightly. "...'tecting you."

"Oh? And what do I owe the pleasure?" Tony asked sarcastically.

"Luck, probably." Harry sighed and lifted his head tiredly. "Your soul is special, so I am tasked with making sure you don't die."

"So...I'm immortal?"

"You wish, Stark. Before you go around throwing yourself out a window, know that I'll only deter you from unnatural deaths that are within my control."

"Eh, fair enough."

There was a small, awkward silence between them. Despite that, Harry felt a million times more relaxed, eyelids occasionally drooping from how tired he felt. If he was being honest, this was probably the longest interaction that he had had for years and he could feel the weight of each and every second on his weary body.

"When will I be able to go home?" The other's voice startled him, body posture suddenly rigid like a startled animal. It takes him a moment to calm down.

"Today evening." He said slowly. "There are still helicopters searching for you all over Afghanistan, it shouldn't be difficult to find one to go back to…Malibu?"

"Yes, Malibu. How will we call their attention? I doubt that they're actually blindly combing through cities and towns."

"You're right, they're not." He agreed "However, they are flying through the desert in a very specific formation in order to maximize their probabilities of finding you. We should be able to put ourselves in their path in order for them to notice you. We have a speculated location of one of them."

"Huh, you've thought this out very thoroughly."

"I've had time." He shrugged distractedly. "There wasn't much I could do in the cave other than watch. I am not permitted to interact with living souls unless absolutely necessary."

"Why not?"

"I was told not to."

"... Why'd you intervene, then? When I was about to be hit by a projectile, I had a way to dodge it."

"I…" He blinked, memories of the event blurred like most of his other memories. "I don't know, I just did."

He remembered...it was an impulse. Something had suddenly screamed at him to move and stop it. The instincts that he didn't know he had kicked in, his magic spreading in front of his hand like some sort of impenetrable wall. He reasoned that maybe it had to do with the fact that Tony's soul was blessed, but, of that was the case, why'd his _magic_ of all things react? Why not his wings or shadows?...He didn't like that it confused him to no end.

"Dobby, please take my plate to the room I'm staying in." He snapped suddenly, forcing himself to stand up in spite of the heaviness of his limbs.

"Yes, Master of death, sir!"

"Wait, you're leaving?"

"I apologize, I have some things to think about before we go. You can look around the house if you so wish."

He didn't give Tony any time to react and, with how overwhelmed he felt by his own emotions, he didn't really care either, walking rather hurriedly towards the entrance and wings disappearing into nothingness, lest he bump into something and break it. For the first time in years, it bothered him not to remember things completely and to not have a full control of his actions.

He never saw how the grey eyes of a single portrait followed him when he walked past it before freezing in place once again.

 **A/N (Updated on June 18, 2018):**

 **Hey guys! Just wanted to warn you that I will be actually deleting some of the chapters that I feel don't have much importance for my story. Thank you so much for reading up until now!**


	8. Chapter 5

**Chapter five**

 **Another life: First memory.**

Harry took deep breaths to calm himself down. He sat cross-legged on the room that he was given by Dobby, who claimed that it actually was his from the start. He had seen a picture of Draco in this place, but he lacked any memories regarding it. His body, however, seemed to remember it quite well, because he had used his shadow travel to get here on instinct. He had woken up with a white marble in his hand and a painful ache on his abdomen -he had been hit by a stray bullet, that much he remembered, but it was already bandaged...had he done that? He couldn't recall...

Besides, although he didn't remember taking any souls, the marble that flowed with the energy of life suggested otherwise. That made him remember what Stark had mentioned previously about him killing Yinsen...yet it confused him to no end. When he collected souls, he didn't sing nor did he glow, he was sure that Death or the angels might've told him something about it if he did. God, _what was happening?!_

He forced himself to close his eyes. He focused on his scarce memories, trying to grab at something that could help him out…to his surprise, something pulled him in response. He was used on dwelling in his past and sometimes stumbling upon a memory, but this felt...different. It didn't quite feel like it was his and it felt more like someone was pushing it onto him. He couldn't stop his consciousness from fading as the memory didn't wait for him to call upon it, instead barreling into him like a vicious beast.

All the while, the stone on his chest glowed a warm orange…

 _Warm..._

...He liked this warmth…

It was...familiar.

... _Almost like…like..._

 _̞̮͔̬̹́M̬͕O̴̮͚̲̥t̛̳͚̭̥̲̙̣H̷̲̣̩̪̩̼e̜͈r͚͓͎͉͝ͅ.̜̜̬̞͔̘_

His eyes snapped open at the noise of a knocking on the door, a headache assaulting him. He groaned and rolled around in his bed, annoyed by the loud sound and the light that fell from the skylight, naturally illuminating- _Wasn't it dark?-_ his room. The knocking persisted as he stood, shivering from the cold marble floor.

 _What-_

"My prince, the king requests your presence at the throne room." A voice calmly said from the other side- _in a language that he didn't know, but could understand_.

"Tell him that I'll be there shortly."

"Of course, your Highness."

" _Where am I?" Harry mumbles, but the words never leave his mouth._

He runs a hand through his inky black hair- _Longer than he remembered-_ and downs on his usual dress wear: A long sleeved, golden tunic that covered all of his body, hiding his black boots, a long, black vest with flower patterns, a golden sash that held it together at the waist and an elegant cloak with the same patterns as his vest. Just before he leaves, he takes his sheathed sword and fastens it with his sash.

He stepped outside of his chambers and walked down the hall, letting a small sigh escape him as he placed a hand over the hilt of his weapon. Dealing with father wasn't really his favorite thing in the world, but there was little that he could do about it. He took a deep breath before he opened the doors to the throne room, walking under the drowning sensation of his father's presence and kneeling before him, avoiding any eye contact.

"You wished to speak with me, father?"

"...Yes." He said and he could feel how he stared at him, almost as if he was annoyed by him. The feeling was mutual. "Your sister and I will be parting in a couple of days towards the frontlines. Until our return, you will be in charge of overseeing our people alongside your mother." His eyes snapped wide open as he looked at the old king.

"What-father, that's far too rash!" He shouted, unable to contain his shock. He turned at his mother, who sat beside his father, but she avoided his eyes. "Mother, surely you don't agree with this?"

"Enough." His father's voice rumbled. "My men have told me that Odin has made his move. If I am not there, he will easily tear through our army." He felt the king's glare, making him flinch and bow down his head once more.

"If that's the case, then why take my sister? Both of us have just begun our training. Pushing her out would be casting a death sentence upon her."

"Don't question my decisions." The other's harsh voice left room for no response. Deep down, however, he knew the reason as to why. "You must only obey any order that I dictate, unless you doubt my capability of looking over my own kingdom?" He doubted it, very much actually, but he knew that was a trick question. He gritted his teeth and shook his head.

"I...No, father. I apologize."

"Perfect. Your duties will be to go over any paperwork that the guards bring and make rounds along with the guards to make sure that everything is in order. You are dismissed."

He nodded and stood up, lifting his gaze ever so slightly to try and catch a glimpse of his mother. When he did, he was faced with a disgruntled expression that was so fast that he barely had any time to catch it. He made a hasty retreat, a frown on his face.

He was born in war.

Well, 'born' was a strong term, he wasn't born in the middle of a battlefield, but his eyes were familiar with death and his memory was plagued with blood. He was taught to greet fear like a friend and to spread destruction wherever he pleased. From a very young age, he was taught all of this by his father, the master of the tides. His father meant cold and despair to those who came across him and he was supposed to walk in his footsteps.

His mother, however, didn't agree with his ideals. She liked being diplomatic and, although she was often quiet, everybody knew her for being kind and caring. She was young and delicate in comparison to his father, almost like a flower. Some would even wonder if she wasn't actually a goddess of beauty. She, too, told him her tales. She praised him when he was polite and she'd laugh melodically when he made a mistake instead of berating him.

Like day and night, his parents were perfect parallels for each other.

"Mother-" He remembered that he had once asked, her green gaze calmly settling on his as she stopped tending to the garden that she loved so much. "-why is it that you stay by father's side if you disagree with what he does?" For a split second, he saw her beautiful smile falter before coming back full force, as if reassuring him that nothing could ever go wrong.

"Because I love him, my child, just like I love you." She looked up at the nightly sky. "Love, you'll learn, is a very strong emotion. It is capable of washing your fears away and making you strong enough to protect those you hold dear."

"...If love is so powerful, then why doesn't father use it to fight, mother? Wouldn't the wars be over if he did?" Her lips pressed as she frowned. He didn't like seeing her without a smile.

"Sometimes..." She started, voice lowering a notch. "Other emotions, such as fear and hate, can make others wary and aggressive. Love is strong, young one, and if you have enough determination, you can do the impossible through it, but it isn't invincible, because love is an emotion and beings who have emotions also have weaknesses...But that isn't that bad, isn't it?"

"And why is that so, mother?"

"Because it means that we are alive."

His thoughts were interrupted by someone bumping into him. He didn't need to look to know that it was his sister. Like their father, she reeked of _something_ that he couldn't quite place. It was like tar, thick and sticky. Standing too near to either of them made his skin feel tainted by something disgusting.

"Oh, brother, I didn't see you there!" Her voice was oblivious, like he hadn't been walking right in the middle of the hall. He responded in a deadpan.

"Sister."

"Did you hear the news?"

"Can't say that I haven't." He tried to side-step her, but the grip on his arm made him stop.

"Aw, come on, brother, don't be so cold. Won't you at least say goodbye to your gentle little sister?"

He let out a small snort before he shook his head, pulling his arm out from her harsh grasp. Gentle was a bit of an overstatement, considering that she was a monster during their training sessions. Yes, he knew why his father had chose her. While he was adept at fighting, knowing that sometimes violence was necessary, she _craved_ for the violence. The fact that her abilities were several times more flexible only added to her dangerousness. Plus, she was capable of controlling forces that far exceeded his comprehension.

"Good luck or whatever."

"See? Was that so hard to say?"

"Very." He rolled his eyes, receiving a painful jab at the ribs. He hissed and glared. "Do you have to wear that armour everywhere you go?"

"One must always be prepared for battle, brother."

"Yes, but we are in the middle of the castle." He sighed and gave her a small smile, trying to ignore the stench that, from what he had many times asked, only he could smell. "Be careful out there, you brat. You better write me."

"You can bet I will. I hope you don't die with all the paperwork you have to do while we aren't here."

He shoved her lightly and hugged her, careful of not stabbing himself with the several spikes along her armour, definitely not thinking about how he couldn't breathe once again. They both said their goodbyes and went their own ways since they had stuff to do. He might not like his father, but he loved his little sister dearly. He'd be hard-pressed to say he didn't fear for her in spite of her ability.

His father had always liked his sister more because she had power over something that not many other gods could brag about. She had the power over death amongst many other aspects like magic and prophecy. How could making flowers bloom even compare to the overwhelming power that was one of the primordial aspects of existence? It's simple, there was no comparison.

At noon, he and his mother, along with their personal guards, were standing not too far to the entrance of the Bifrost, the bridge that connected their world to many others, except, of course, Asgard. The connection used to be used for trading, but they had taken to using it to invade other worlds. His mother smiled, a hand on his shoulder as they watched the bright light engulf everything in sight. They had to look away, but, by the time that they were able to open their eyes, the small battalion that his father had gathered along with his sister was gone.

The days went by like normal, if a bit duller without his sister's antics. Some days, he'd be going over some treaties and letters that were sent from their war and trading allies. Others, he'd go out and interact with his people. As it turns out, they had plenty to say and do. There were times when they'd teach him how to grow crops -hence why he was currently growing a small apple tree in their garden- and sometimes they'd teach him how to deal with children. More often than not, he'd be reading alongside his mother or practicing with his godly blessing.

However, not everything was always bright. There were times when a group of wounded gods would come through the Bifrost. They'd do what they could, but it was far too late most of the time. It wasn't long before rumours started to circulate. Apparently, a dying goddess had spoken of a pair of deadly gods that stood beside Odin. True beasts that easily slayed anyone that faced them and, from what he had heard, one of them was especially deadly, able to go toe to toe against his sister in terms of power.

Although he feared that they might be true, he guessed that his sister would've mentioned gods like those in her letters, which she hadn't. Last thing he knew form her, which wasn't that long ago, was that they were on a standstill on the land of the dark elves, trying to fight against their army as well since they were also trying to conquer like both of the god races.

He tried to dismiss the rumours as some sort of overexaggeration from the pain, but time went on and their numbers were dwindling. About a year had passed and the general morale of their people was extremely low. Everyone seemed to be losing faith that this would soon be over. Even his mother seemed to always be tired, often seen staring at the Bifrost intently. It had also been three months since he had last heard of his sister, the longest that she had been without communication, the second longest being just three weeks.

He had been pacing for the last hour and a half, reading through the library's titles without really reading them at all. He had been trying to come up with a way that he could help his sister. Their allies were just as bad as they were currently, the earth giants had even retreated long ago. He couldn't negotiate with Odin, many had tried before and look what had happened after that, they were basically slaves.

His eyes landed on one of the books, a strange feeling overcoming him. It wasn't very attention grabbing, merely leatherbound and very old, as if no one had taken good care of it. Despite his current dilemma, he took it out, reading the cover.

K̨̡̢̯̜̳͇͙̬͇̤͓̓ͯͫ̽͛ͯ̇͆̓̈́́ȏ̸̶̜̫̱̤ͣ̃͐ͭ͆̀͢͠ŝ̢͔̥̗̥̫̜̉ͩ̂̎ͧ̿̊̽̌͛̂ͮ͆͌͜m̜̜̗̬̰̝͈̮̺̻͔͕̖̝ͣ̆̓̽̀͑̄ͪ͐̊̎̋ͥ͆̇́͌̽̚͜͠͝i̢̨̛͖̯̗̬͇̝͇̤̬͉̘̺̦̜͌̈ͧ́s̸̵͙̠͓̪̟͇͖̠̝͎̪͉̪̤̩͈ͤ̄́̿̿ͮ̀ͬͤ͐͂̓̉̓͐̿̅͗̃͜͠͡k̵̛̛̲͍̲͇͚̹̞̤̮̜͖̼͙̬̼̓̔͌́̌̿͆ͭ̃́̉ͥ̏̅͘͡ạ̸̞̖ͩ̃͋ͥ͊͛ͦ̿̋̕ ̴̵̡̘̦̥̣̓ͮ̂ͪ̂̾͂̈̎͡s̷̲̤̼̰̗̥̽ͫ̊̎̍͗̓̓ͮ́̽̚͞i̴̺͙̫̮̜͖̮̦̋ͭ̅ͩ̍͌͜͝ͅn̵̬͉̱̘͈͖̺̮̭̯̻̜̗̗͆͛̄̂̄͂ͫͥ͌́͜͝g̵͎̯͙̼͙̳̺̦͖̮̘̞̲͍̤̭̭̮̣ͮ͋ͧ̕͟ú̋̃͌͋̇ͬͫ̂͘҉̴͏̟͉̖̗̭l̡̘̭̖̘̞͉̼̱̬ͭͫ̅̄̅ͯͮ͂̈́̂̿͊̂̌̑͌ͩͣ̚͢͠a̴̴̵̟̰̱̠̭̜͔̭̼͍ͧ͋ͮ́̚͞ͅr̶̴̛͖̜̹͎̱̘̞̘̗̩͎̙̠̼̹̞̞̎̽̎̓̅ͯͮ̀̿ͣ̚͘͠ỉ̡̛̒͛̏ͩ̾ͫ̓͏̡̨͎͔̩̩͇̹͈̮̬̯ţ̸̷̻͓̝͈̣͍̪̜̫̰̳̻͙͎̘͈̳̂̓̿̍ͥ͑͆͒̾͑̍̀͗̀́͟e̷̤͉̣͇̹͎̝̠̣̭͍̳̦͎̜͂̔̽̇͋̀͑̿̂͋̽͗̒̏̈ͯ̇̋̚̕͢ͅt̨̞̯̟̗̮͇̥̯̝̙̟̱͖̪̙͉̜̘̼̆͊͂̋̉͊́͆̉̐ͧ̃̆͊̕e̟̲͈̪̎ͥ̔̑ͦ̊͋̅̓̄͌͜͠r͖͕̹̩̟̤̠̦̜͎̞̍̄̅̿̍̆̓͒͛͜ͅ K̨̡̢̯̜̳͇͙̬͇̤͓̓ͯͫ̽͛ͯ̇͆̓̈́́ȏ̸̶̜̫̱̤ͣ̃͐ͭ͆̀͢͠ŝ̢͔̥̗̥̫̜̉ͩ̂̎ͧ̿̊̽̌͛̂ͮ͆͌͜m̜̜̗̬̰̝͈̮̺̻͔͕̖̝ͣ̆̓̽̀͑̄ͪ͐̊̎̋ͥ͆̇́͌̽̚͜͠͝i̢̨̛͖̯̗̬͇̝͇̤̬͉̘̺̦̜͌̈ͧ́s̸̵͙̠͓̪̟͇͖̠̝͎̪͉̪̤̩͈ͤ̄́̿̿ͮ̀ͬͤ͐͂̓̉̓͐̿̅͗̃͜͠͡k̵̛̛̲͍̲͇͚̹̞̤̮̜͖̼͙̬̼̓̔͌́̌̿͆ͭ̃́̉ͥ̏̅͘͡ạ̸̞̖ͩ̃͋ͥ͊͛ͦ̿̋̕ ̴̵̡̘̦̥̣̓ͮ̂ͪ̂̾͂̈̎͡s̷̲̤̼̰̗̥̽ͫ̊̎̍͗̓̓ͮ́̽̚͞i̴̺͙̫̮̜͖̮̦̋ͭ̅ͩ̍͌͜͝ͅn̵̬͉̱̘͈͖̺̮̭̯̻̜̗̗͆͛̄̂̄͂ͫͥ͌́͜͝g̵͎̯͙̼͙̳̺̦͖̮̘̞̲͍̤̭̭̮̣ͮ͋ͧ̕͟ú̋̃͌͋̇ͬͫ̂͘҉̴͏̟͉̖̗̭l̡̘̭̖̘̞͉̼̱̬ͭͫ̅̄̅ͯͮ͂̈́̂̿͊̂̌̑͌ͩͣ̚͢͠a̴̴̵̟̰̱̠̭̜͔̭̼͍ͧ͋ͮ́̚͞ͅr̶̴̛͖̜̹͎̱̘̞̘̗̩͎̙̠̼̹̞̞̎̽̎̓̅ͯͮ̀̿ͣ̚͘͠ỉ̡̛̒͛̏ͩ̾ͫ̓͏̡̨͎͔̩̩͇̹͈̮̬̯ţ̸̷̻͓̝͈̣͍̪̜̫̰̳̻͙͎̘͈̳̂̓̿̍ͥ͑͆͒̾͑̍̀͗̀́͟e̷̤͉̣͇̹͎̝̠̣̭͍̳̦͎̜͂̔̽̇͋̀͑̿̂͋̽͗̒̏̈ͯ̇̋̚̕͢ͅt̨̞̯̟̗̮͇̥̯̝̙̟̱͖̪̙͉̜̘̼̆͊͂̋̉͊́͆̉̐ͧ̃̆͊̕e̟̲͈̪̎ͥ̔̑ͦ̊͋̅̓̄͌͜͠r͖͕̹̩̟̤̠̦̜͎̞̍̄̅̿̍̆̓͒͛͜ͅ K̨̡̢̯̜̳͇͙̬͇̤͓̓ͯͫ̽͛ͯ̇͆̓̈́́ȏ̸̶̜̫̱̤ͣ̃͐ͭ͆̀͢͠ŝ̢͔̥̗̥̫̜̉ͩ̂̎ͧ̿̊̽̌͛̂ͮ͆͌͜m̜̜̗̬̰̝͈̮̺̻͔͕̖̝ͣ̆̓̽̀͑̄ͪ͐̊̎̋ͥ͆̇́͌̽̚͜͠͝i̢̨̛͖̯̗̬͇̝͇̤̬͉̘̺̦̜͌̈ͧ́s̸̵͙̠͓̪̟͇͖̠̝͎̪͉̪̤̩͈ͤ̄́̿̿ͮ̀ͬͤ͐͂̓̉̓͐̿̅͗̃͜͠͡k̵̛̛̲͍̲͇͚̹̞̤̮̜͖̼͙̬̼̓̔͌́̌̿͆ͭ̃́̉ͥ̏̅͘͡ạ̸̞̖ͩ̃͋ͥ͊͛ͦ̿̋̕ ̴̵̡̘̦̥̣̓ͮ̂ͪ̂̾͂̈̎͡s̷̲̤̼̰̗̥̽ͫ̊̎̍͗̓̓ͮ́̽̚͞i̴̺͙̫̮̜͖̮̦̋ͭ̅ͩ̍͌͜͝ͅn̵̬͉̱̘͈͖̺̮̭̯̻̜̗̗͆͛̄̂̄͂ͫͥ͌́͜͝g̵͎̯͙̼͙̳̺̦͖̮̘̞̲͍̤̭̭̮̣ͮ͋ͧ̕͟ú̋̃͌͋̇ͬͫ̂͘҉̴͏̟͉̖̗̭l̡̘̭̖̘̞͉̼̱̬ͭͫ̅̄̅ͯͮ͂̈́̂̿͊̂̌̑͌ͩͣ̚͢͠a̴̴̵̟̰̱̠̭̜͔̭̼͍ͧ͋ͮ́̚͞ͅr̶̴̛͖̜̹͎̱̘̞̘̗̩͎̙̠̼̹̞̞̎̽̎̓̅ͯͮ̀̿ͣ̚͘͠ỉ̡̛̒͛̏ͩ̾ͫ̓͏̡̨͎͔̩̩͇̹͈̮̬̯ţ̸̷̻͓̝͈̣͍̪̜̫̰̳̻͙͎̘͈̳̂̓̿̍ͥ͑͆͒̾͑̍̀͗̀́͟e̷̤͉̣͇̹͎̝̠̣̭͍̳̦͎̜͂̔̽̇͋̀͑̿̂͋̽͗̒̏̈ͯ̇̋̚̕͢ͅt̨̞̯̟̗̮͇̥̯̝̙̟̱͖̪̙͉̜̘̼̆͊͂̋̉͊́͆̉̐ͧ̃̆͊̕e̟̲͈̪̎ͥ̔̑ͦ̊͋̅̓̄͌͜͠r͖͕̹̩̟̤̠̦̜͎̞̍̄̅̿̍̆̓͒͛͜ͅ K̨̡̢̯̜̳͇͙̬͇̤͓̓ͯͫ̽͛ͯ̇͆̓̈́́ȏ̸̶̜̫̱̤ͣ̃͐ͭ͆̀͢͠ŝ̢͔̥̗̥̫̜̉ͩ̂̎ͧ̿̊̽̌͛̂ͮ͆͌͜m̜̜̗̬̰̝͈̮̺̻͔͕̖̝ͣ̆̓̽̀͑̄ͪ͐̊̎̋ͥ͆̇́͌̽̚͜͠͝i̢̨̛͖̯̗̬͇̝͇̤̬͉̘̺̦̜͌̈ͧ́s̸̵͙̠͓̪̟͇͖̠̝͎̪͉̪̤̩͈ͤ̄́̿̿ͮ̀ͬͤ͐͂̓̉̓͐̿̅͗̃͜͠͡k̵̛̛̲͍̲͇͚̹̞̤̮̜͖̼͙̬̼̓̔͌́̌̿͆ͭ̃́̉ͥ̏̅͘͡ạ̸̞̖ͩ̃͋ͥ͊͛ͦ̿̋̕ ̴̵̡̘̦̥̣̓ͮ̂ͪ̂̾͂̈̎͡s̷̲̤̼̰̗̥̽ͫ̊̎̍͗̓̓ͮ́̽̚͞i̴̺͙̫̮̜͖̮̦̋ͭ̅ͩ̍͌͜͝ͅn̵̬͉̱̘͈͖̺̮̭̯̻̜̗̗͆͛̄̂̄͂ͫͥ͌́͜͝g̵͎̯͙̼͙̳̺̦͖̮̘̞̲͍̤̭̭̮̣ͮ͋ͧ̕͟ú̋̃͌͋̇ͬͫ̂͘҉̴͏̟͉̖̗̭l̡̘̭̖̘̞͉̼̱̬ͭͫ̅̄̅ͯͮ͂̈́̂̿͊̂̌̑͌ͩͣ̚͢͠a̴̴̵̟̰̱̠̭̜͔̭̼͍ͧ͋ͮ́̚͞ͅr̶̴̛͖̜̹͎̱̘̞̘̗̩͎̙̠̼̹̞̞̎̽̎̓̅ͯͮ̀̿ͣ̚͘͠ỉ̡̛̒͛̏ͩ̾ͫ̓͏̡̨͎͔̩̩͇̹͈̮̬̯ţ̸̷̻͓̝͈̣͍̪̜̫̰̳̻͙͎̘͈̳̂̓̿̍ͥ͑͆͒̾͑̍̀͗̀́͟e̷̤͉̣͇̹͎̝̠̣̭͍̳̦͎̜͂̔̽̇͋̀͑̿̂͋̽͗̒̏̈ͯ̇̋̚̕͢ͅt̨̞̯̟̗̮͇̥̯̝̙̟̱͖̪̙͉̜̘̼̆͊͂̋̉͊́͆̉̐ͧ̃̆͊̕e̟̲͈̪̎ͥ̔̑ͦ̊͋̅̓̄͌͜͠r͖͕̹̩̟̤̠̦̜͎̞̍̄̅̿̍̆̓͒͛͜ͅ K̨̡̢̯̜̳͇͙̬͇̤͓̓ͯͫ̽͛ͯ̇͆̓̈́́ȏ̸̶̜̫̱̤ͣ̃͐ͭ͆̀͢͠ŝ̢͔̥̗̥̫̜̉ͩ̂̎ͧ̿̊̽̌͛̂ͮ͆͌͜m̜̜̗̬̰̝͈̮̺̻͔͕̖̝ͣ̆̓̽̀͑̄ͪ͐̊̎̋ͥ͆̇́͌̽̚͜͠͝i̢̨̛͖̯̗̬͇̝͇̤̬͉̘̺̦̜͌̈ͧ́s̸̵͙̠͓̪̟͇͖̠̝͎̪͉̪̤̩͈ͤ̄́̿̿ͮ̀ͬͤ͐͂̓̉̓͐̿̅͗̃͜͠͡k̵̛̛̲͍̲͇͚̹̞̤̮̜͖̼͙̬̼̓̔͌́̌̿͆ͭ̃́̉ͥ̏̅͘͡ạ̸̞̖ͩ̃͋ͥ͊͛ͦ̿̋̕ ̴̵̡̘̦̥̣̓ͮ̂ͪ̂̾͂̈̎͡s̷̲̤̼̰̗̥̽ͫ̊̎̍͗̓̓ͮ́̽̚͞i̴̺͙̫̮̜͖̮̦̋ͭ̅ͩ̍͌͜͝ͅn̵̬͉̱̘͈͖̺̮̭̯̻̜̗̗͆͛̄̂̄͂ͫͥ͌́͜͝g̵͎̯͙̼͙̳̺̦͖̮̘̞̲͍̤̭̭̮̣ͮ͋ͧ̕͟ú̋̃͌͋̇ͬͫ̂͘҉̴͏̟͉̖̗̭l̡̘̭̖̘̞͉̼̱̬ͭͫ̅̄̅ͯͮ͂̈́̂̿͊̂̌̑͌ͩͣ̚͢͠a̴̴̵̟̰̱̠̭̜͔̭̼͍ͧ͋ͮ́̚͞ͅr̶̴̛͖̜̹͎̱̘̞̘̗̩͎̙̠̼̹̞̞̎̽̎̓̅ͯͮ̀̿ͣ̚͘͠ỉ̡̛̒͛̏ͩ̾ͫ̓͏̡̨͎͔̩̩͇̹͈̮̬̯ţ̸̷̻͓̝͈̣͍̪̜̫̰̳̻͙͎̘͈̳̂̓̿̍ͥ͑͆͒̾͑̍̀͗̀́͟e̷̤͉̣͇̹͎̝̠̣̭͍̳̦͎̜͂̔̽̇͋̀͑̿̂͋̽͗̒̏̈ͯ̇̋̚̕͢ͅt̨̞̯̟̗̮͇̥̯̝̙̟̱͖̪̙͉̜̘̼̆͊͂̋̉͊́͆̉̐ͧ̃̆͊̕e̟̲͈̪̎ͥ̔̑ͦ̊͋̅̓̄͌͜͠r͖͕̹̩̟̤̠̦̜͎̞̍̄̅̿̍̆̓͒͛͜ͅ K̨̡̢̯̜̳͇͙̬͇̤͓̓ͯͫ̽͛ͯ̇͆̓̈́́ȏ̸̶̜̫̱̤ͣ̃͐ͭ͆̀͢͠ŝ̢͔̥̗̥̫̜̉ͩ̂̎ͧ̿̊̽̌͛̂ͮ͆͌͜m̜̜̗̬̰̝͈̮̺̻͔͕̖̝ͣ̆̓̽̀͑̄ͪ͐̊̎̋ͥ͆̇́͌̽̚͜͠͝i̢̨̛͖̯̗̬͇̝͇̤̬͉̘̺̦̜͌̈ͧ́s̸̵͙̠͓̪̟͇͖̠̝͎̪͉̪̤̩͈ͤ̄́̿̿ͮ̀ͬͤ͐͂̓̉̓͐̿̅͗̃͜͠͡k̵̛̛̲͍̲͇͚̹̞̤̮̜͖̼͙̬̼̓̔͌́̌̿͆ͭ̃́̉ͥ̏̅͘͡ạ̸̞̖ͩ̃͋ͥ͊͛ͦ̿̋̕ ̴̵̡̘̦̥̣̓ͮ̂ͪ̂̾͂̈̎͡s̷̲̤̼̰̗̥̽ͫ̊̎̍͗̓̓ͮ́̽̚͞i̴̺͙̫̮̜͖̮̦̋ͭ̅ͩ̍͌͜͝ͅn̵̬͉̱̘͈͖̺̮̭̯̻̜̗̗͆͛̄̂̄͂ͫͥ͌́͜͝g̵͎̯͙̼͙̳̺̦͖̮̘̞̲͍̤̭̭̮̣ͮ͋ͧ̕͟ú̋̃͌͋̇ͬͫ̂͘҉̴͏̟͉̖̗̭l̡̘̭̖̘̞͉̼̱̬ͭͫ̅̄̅ͯͮ͂̈́̂̿͊̂̌̑͌ͩͣ̚͢͠a̴̴̵̟̰̱̠̭̜͔̭̼͍ͧ͋ͮ́̚͞ͅr̶̴̛͖̜̹͎̱̘̞̘̗̩͎̙̠̼̹̞̞̎̽̎̓̅ͯͮ̀̿ͣ̚͘͠ỉ̡̛̒͛̏ͩ̾ͫ̓͏̡̨͎͔̩̩͇̹͈̮̬̯ţ̸̷̻͓̝͈̣͍̪̜̫̰̳̻͙͎̘͈̳̂̓̿̍ͥ͑͆͒̾͑̍̀͗̀́͟e̷̤͉̣͇̹͎̝̠̣̭͍̳̦͎̜͂̔̽̇͋̀͑̿̂͋̽͗̒̏̈ͯ̇̋̚̕͢ͅt̨̞̯̟̗̮͇̥̯̝̙̟̱͖̪̙͉̜̘̼̆͊͂̋̉͊́͆̉̐ͧ̃̆͊̕e̟̲͈̪̎ͥ̔̑ͦ̊͋̅̓̄͌͜͠r͖͕̹̩̟̤̠̦̜͎̞̍̄̅̿̍̆̓͒͛͜ͅ K̨̡̢̯̜̳͇͙̬͇̤͓̓ͯͫ̽͛ͯ̇͆̓̈́́ȏ̸̶̜̫̱̤ͣ̃͐ͭ͆̀͢͠ŝ̢͔̥̗̥̫̜̉ͩ̂̎ͧ̿̊̽̌͛̂ͮ͆͌͜m̜̜̗̬̰̝͈̮̺̻͔͕̖̝ͣ̆̓̽̀͑̄ͪ͐̊̎̋ͥ͆̇́͌̽̚͜͠͝i̢̨̛͖̯̗̬͇̝͇̤̬͉̘̺̦̜͌̈ͧ́s̸̵͙̠͓̪̟͇͖̠̝͎̪͉̪̤̩͈ͤ̄́̿̿ͮ̀ͬͤ͐͂̓̉̓͐̿̅͗̃͜͠͡k̵̛̛̲͍̲͇͚̹̞̤̮̜͖̼͙̬̼̓̔͌́̌̿͆ͭ̃́̉ͥ̏̅͘͡ạ̸̞̖ͩ̃͋ͥ͊͛ͦ̿̋̕ ̴̵̡̘̦̥̣̓ͮ̂ͪ̂̾͂̈̎͡s̷̲̤̼̰̗̥̽ͫ̊̎̍͗̓̓ͮ́̽̚͞i̴̺͙̫̮̜͖̮̦̋ͭ̅ͩ̍͌͜͝ͅn̵̬͉̱̘͈͖̺̮̭̯̻̜̗̗͆͛̄̂̄͂ͫͥ͌́͜͝g̵͎̯͙̼͙̳̺̦͖̮̘̞̲͍̤̭̭̮̣ͮ͋ͧ̕͟ú̋̃͌͋̇ͬͫ̂͘҉̴͏̟͉̖̗̭l̡̘̭̖̘̞͉̼̱̬ͭͫ̅̄̅ͯͮ͂̈́̂̿͊̂̌̑͌ͩͣ̚͢͠a̴̴̵̟̰̱̠̭̜͔̭̼͍ͧ͋ͮ́̚͞ͅr̶̴̛͖̜̹͎̱̘̞̘̗̩͎̙̠̼̹̞̞̎̽̎̓̅ͯͮ̀̿ͣ̚͘͠ỉ̡̛̒͛̏ͩ̾ͫ̓͏̡̨͎͔̩̩͇̹͈̮̬̯ţ̸̷̻͓̝͈̣͍̪̜̫̰̳̻͙͎̘͈̳̂̓̿̍ͥ͑͆͒̾͑̍̀͗̀́͟e̷̤͉̣͇̹͎̝̠̣̭͍̳̦͎̜͂̔̽̇͋̀͑̿̂͋̽͗̒̏̈ͯ̇̋̚̕͢ͅt̨̞̯̟̗̮͇̥̯̝̙̟̱͖̪̙͉̜̘̼̆͊͂̋̉͊́͆̉̐ͧ̃̆͊̕e̟̲͈̪̎ͥ̔̑ͦ̊͋̅̓̄͌͜͠r͖͕̹̩̟̤̠̦̜͎̞̍̄̅̿̍̆̓͒͛͜ͅ K̨̡̢̯̜̳͇͙̬͇̤͓̓ͯͫ̽͛ͯ̇͆̓̈́́ȏ̸̶̜̫̱̤ͣ̃͐ͭ͆̀͢͠ŝ̢͔̥̗̥̫̜̉ͩ̂̎ͧ̿̊̽̌͛̂ͮ͆͌͜m̜̜̗̬̰̝͈̮̺̻͔͕̖̝ͣ̆̓̽̀͑̄ͪ͐̊̎̋ͥ͆̇́͌̽̚͜͠͝i̢̨̛͖̯̗̬͇̝͇̤̬͉̘̺̦̜͌̈ͧ́s̸̵͙̠͓̪̟͇͖̠̝͎̪͉̪̤̩͈ͤ̄́̿̿ͮ̀ͬͤ͐͂̓̉̓͐̿̅͗̃͜͠͡k̵̛̛̲͍̲͇͚̹̞̤̮̜͖̼͙̬̼̓̔͌́̌̿͆ͭ̃́̉ͥ̏̅͘͡ạ̸̞̖ͩ̃͋ͥ͊͛ͦ̿̋̕ ̴̵̡̘̦̥̣̓ͮ̂ͪ̂̾͂̈̎͡s̷̲̤̼̰̗̥̽ͫ̊̎̍͗̓̓ͮ́̽̚͞i̴̺͙̫̮̜͖̮̦̋ͭ̅ͩ̍͌͜͝ͅn̵̬͉̱̘͈͖̺̮̭̯̻̜̗̗͆͛̄̂̄͂ͫͥ͌́͜͝g̵͎̯͙̼͙̳̺̦͖̮̘̞̲͍̤̭̭̮̣ͮ͋ͧ̕͟ú̋̃͌͋̇ͬͫ̂͘҉̴͏̟͉̖̗̭l̡̘̭̖̘̞͉̼̱̬ͭͫ̅̄̅ͯͮ͂̈́̂̿͊̂̌̑͌ͩͣ̚͢͠a̴̴̵̟̰̱̠̭̜͔̭̼͍ͧ͋ͮ́̚͞ͅr̶̴̛͖̜̹͎̱̘̞̘̗̩͎̙̠̼̹̞̞̎̽̎̓̅ͯͮ̀̿ͣ̚͘͠ỉ̡̛̒͛̏ͩ̾ͫ̓͏̡̨͎͔̩̩͇̹͈̮̬̯ţ̸̷̻͓̝͈̣͍̪̜̫̰̳̻͙͎̘͈̳̂̓̿̍ͥ͑͆͒̾͑̍̀͗̀́͟e̷̤͉̣͇̹͎̝̠̣̭͍̳̦͎̜͂̔̽̇͋̀͑̿̂͋̽͗̒̏̈ͯ̇̋̚̕͢ͅt̨̞̯̟̗̮͇̥̯̝̙̟̱͖̪̙͉̜̘̼̆͊͂̋̉͊́͆̉̐ͧ̃̆͊̕e̟̲͈̪̎ͥ̔̑ͦ̊͋̅̓̄͌͜͠r͖͕̹̩̟̤̠̦̜͎̞̍̄̅̿̍̆̓͒͛͜ͅ K̨̡̢̯̜̳͇͙̬͇̤͓̓ͯͫ̽͛ͯ̇͆̓̈́́ȏ̸̶̜̫̱̤ͣ̃͐ͭ͆̀͢͠ŝ̢͔̥̗̥̫̜̉ͩ̂̎ͧ̿̊̽̌͛̂ͮ͆͌͜m̜̜̗̬̰̝͈̮̺̻͔͕̖̝ͣ̆̓̽̀͑̄ͪ͐̊̎̋ͥ͆̇́͌̽̚͜͠͝i̢̨̛͖̯̗̬͇̝͇̤̬͉̘̺̦̜͌̈ͧ́s̸̵͙̠͓̪̟͇͖̠̝͎̪͉̪̤̩͈ͤ̄́̿̿ͮ̀ͬͤ͐͂̓̉̓͐̿̅͗̃͜͠͡k̵̛̛̲͍̲͇͚̹̞̤̮̜͖̼͙̬̼̓̔͌́̌̿͆ͭ̃́̉ͥ̏̅͘͡ạ̸̞̖ͩ̃͋ͥ͊͛ͦ̿̋̕ ̴̵̡̘̦̥̣̓ͮ̂ͪ̂̾͂̈̎͡s̷̲̤̼̰̗̥̽ͫ̊̎̍͗̓̓ͮ́̽̚͞i̴̺͙̫̮̜͖̮̦̋ͭ̅ͩ̍͌͜͝ͅn̵̬͉̱̘͈͖̺̮̭̯̻̜̗̗͆͛̄̂̄͂ͫͥ͌́͜͝g̵͎̯͙̼͙̳̺̦͖̮̘̞̲͍̤̭̭̮̣ͮ͋ͧ̕͟ú̋̃͌͋̇ͬͫ̂͘҉̴͏̟͉̖̗̭l̡̘̭̖̘̞͉̼̱̬ͭͫ̅̄̅ͯͮ͂̈́̂̿͊̂̌̑͌ͩͣ̚͢͠a̴̴̵̟̰̱̠̭̜͔̭̼͍ͧ͋ͮ́̚͞ͅr̶̴̛͖̜̹͎̱̘̞̘̗̩͎̙̠̼̹̞̞̎̽̎̓̅ͯͮ̀̿ͣ̚͘͠ỉ̡̛̒͛̏ͩ̾ͫ̓͏̡̨͎͔̩̩͇̹͈̮̬̯ţ̸̷̻͓̝͈̣͍̪̜̫̰̳̻͙͎̘͈̳̂̓̿̍ͥ͑͆͒̾͑̍̀͗̀́͟e̷̤͉̣͇̹͎̝̠̣̭͍̳̦͎̜͂̔̽̇͋̀͑̿̂͋̽͗̒̏̈ͯ̇̋̚̕͢ͅt̨̞̯̟̗̮͇̥̯̝̙̟̱͖̪̙͉̜̘̼̆͊͂̋̉͊́͆̉̐ͧ̃̆͊̕e̟̲͈̪̎ͥ̔̑ͦ̊͋̅̓̄͌͜͠r͖͕̹̩̟̤̠̦̜͎̞̍̄̅̿̍̆̓͒͛͜ͅ K̨̡̢̯̜̳͇͙̬͇̤͓̓ͯͫ̽͛ͯ̇͆̓̈́́ȏ̸̶̜̫̱̤ͣ̃͐ͭ͆̀͢͠ŝ̢͔̥̗̥̫̜̉ͩ̂̎ͧ̿̊̽̌͛̂ͮ͆͌͜m̜̜̗̬̰̝͈̮̺̻͔͕̖̝ͣ̆̓̽̀͑̄ͪ͐̊̎̋ͥ͆̇́͌̽̚͜͠͝i̢̨̛͖̯̗̬͇̝͇̤̬͉̘̺̦̜͌̈ͧ́s̸̵͙̠͓̪̟͇͖̠̝͎̪͉̪̤̩͈ͤ̄́̿̿ͮ̀ͬͤ͐͂̓̉̓͐̿̅͗̃͜͠͡k̵̛̛̲͍̲͇͚̹̞̤̮̜͖̼͙̬̼̓̔͌́̌̿͆ͭ̃́̉ͥ̏̅͘͡ạ̸̞̖ͩ̃͋ͥ͊͛ͦ̿̋̕ ̴̵̡̘̦̥̣̓ͮ̂ͪ̂̾͂̈̎͡s̷̲̤̼̰̗̥̽ͫ̊̎̍͗̓̓ͮ́̽̚͞i̴̺͙̫̮̜͖̮̦̋ͭ̅ͩ̍͌͜͝ͅn̵̬͉̱̘͈͖̺̮̭̯̻̜̗̗͆͛̄̂̄͂ͫͥ͌́͜͝g̵͎̯͙̼͙̳̺̦͖̮̘̞̲͍̤̭̭̮̣ͮ͋ͧ̕͟ú̋̃͌͋̇ͬͫ̂͘҉̴͏̟͉̖̗̭l̡̘̭̖̘̞͉̼̱̬ͭͫ̅̄̅ͯͮ͂̈́̂̿͊̂̌̑͌ͩͣ̚͢͠a̴̴̵̟̰̱̠̭̜͔̭̼͍ͧ͋ͮ́̚͞ͅr̶̴̛͖̜̹͎̱̘̞̘̗̩͎̙̠̼̹̞̞̎̽̎̓̅ͯͮ̀̿ͣ̚͘͠ỉ̡̛̒͛̏ͩ̾ͫ̓͏̡̨͎͔̩̩͇̹͈̮̬̯ţ̸̷̻͓̝͈̣͍̪̜̫̰̳̻͙͎̘͈̳̂̓̿̍ͥ͑͆͒̾͑̍̀͗̀́͟e̷̤͉̣͇̹͎̝̠̣̭͍̳̦͎̜͂̔̽̇͋̀͑̿̂͋̽͗̒̏̈ͯ̇̋̚̕͢ͅt̨̞̯̟̗̮͇̥̯̝̙̟̱͖̪̙͉̜̘̼̆͊͂̋̉͊́͆̉̐ͧ̃̆͊̕e̟̲͈̪̎ͥ̔̑ͦ̊͋̅̓̄͌͜͠r͖͕̹̩̟̤̠̦̜͎̞̍̄̅̿̍̆̓͒͛͜ͅ

Harry gasped, feeling out of breath and shivering aggressively. His head pounded and his vision blurred. He felt someone touch his back and he couldn't help but to swing his wings at it, feeling them make contact and a distant squeal coming from somewhere along with a crack. He hadn't noticed when he had called his wings, but they also felt as if they were burning. He struggled to take deep breaths, but he eventually managed, feeling lightheaded and his whole body pulsating with vivid pain.

As his vision cleared, however, he noticed that a big frightened pair of eyes stared at him from across the room. He felt heavy, but he slowly pushed himself up, swaying slightly in the process.

"Dobby?" He asked, his throat feeling dry. The house elf gulped and nodded quickly as its trembling hands pointed at the door.

"D-Dobby is sorry for bothering, Master of death, sir!" The elf squeaked. "T-Tony Stark asks h-how much longer you will take."

"I...What time is it?"

"A-around five, sir!" Harry blinked sluggishly and nodded.

"I'll be down in a second." He answered, finally feeling his body starting to function a little better. The elf didn't stay there any longer, practically darting for the exit, much to his confusion.

He carefully walked, calling his wings to himself so that he could regain his balance. He went downstairs, ignoring just how much sensitive he felt. His senses seemed to be hyper aware of everything and his magic was buzzing louder than he had ever heard it. He finally found the Stark genius on the living room, lazily sitting down with his head tilted back. That is, until he stepped closer.

"Finally. There's so much one can do while waiting, you know?" The blue eyed male sighed as he lifted his head to look at him with an analytical stare.

"I am aware."

"...You look tired." The other pointed out.

"Well, I don't feel tired." He lied before reaching out with a hand. "We're leaving now."

"Will Dobby take us there with his little trick?" Tony asked as he took his hand, visibly a lot less tense than a couple of hours earlier.

"...More or less." He mumbled and he focused on Death's blessing once more.

He heard a small gasp of amazement as he felt the shadows rise from the ground. Their grasp was colder than usual and he could've sword that he heard them whispering, but, in just under a second, they had disappeared from Grimmauld place, leaving several moving eyes in their wake.

 **A/N (Updated on June 28, 2018):**

 **Hoho, new characters...or** _ **are**_ **they? This chapter is (I think, I'm kinda too lazy to check) the longest I have written for this story (And it certainly isn't the last one of this type)! Anyways, thanks for reading ;)**


	9. Chapter 6

**Chapter six: Break**

Time, everyone knew, was of essence when searching for someone who had been kidnapped. By now, a full three months after they had last heard of the man known as Tony Stark, all media outlets expressed the public's lack of belief on finding the millionaire. Reluctant of accepting that reality, however, James Rhodes had stretched the search for just a little longer. He had a feeling they were so _close_ to finding his old friend.

One early morning, a report came in from one of the other helicopters he had been assigned. Apparently, there had been some sort of explosion, if it could even be called that. There were no burns on the endless patches of sand, but a cave system was exposed by it. His hunch seemed to not be that incorrect, because further investigation revealed what looked like something that used to be some sort of base of operations, with bodies sprawled everywhere, scorched beyond recognition. At some point, some of their electronic equipment started failing them as well.

They couldn't go very far because the cave system had collapsed, but he couldn't shrug off the feeling that something unnatural had happened here. Maybe it was the stinging feeling in the air or that he felt as if something was watching them constantly, but it unnerved him greatly. Besides, if Tony _had_ been there, there was next to no chance that he had gotten out.

With his hopes almost completely destroyed, he was shocked to receive a message that afternoon from the very same helicopter that had informed them about the explosion. Rhodes had felt lightheaded when their words of having found Tony _alive_ came through. He didn't even remember ordering to give him first aid while they went back to a safe base before they could go back home since his mind had just taken a backseat to try and comprehend that his friend wasn't, in fact, dead.

They met up with all of the searching teams once they were there. After thanking them for their service and being debriefed on the gist of the situation, he hurried to the sick-bay, feeling slightly anxious as if his brain wasn't completely sure that this wasn't a cruel joke -Of course, it wasn't, but he couldn't shut up that little doubtful part of him. He forced himself to calm down before he pushed the door open, hoping that Tony was awake at the very least.

As he entered the room, however, he was surprised to see that Tony didn't look half as bad as he had expected him to look. He was sweating, yes, but he didn't look as if he had been trailing through the desert for days. He had a disheveled and overall messy appearance, but, yet again, it was nothing out of this world. He sat in one of the beds, one of his arms on a cast and eyes fixated at him as if asking him if he needed something, and if not, if he could go away before his expression broke into his usual smirk. He had a hard time holding back a laugh at how...normal he looked.

"How was the fun-vee?" He asked sarcastically, only to receive a shrug in response.

"Eh, I'd give it a two out of ten, wouldn't recommend." The coronel rolled his eyes.

"Of course. You look...lively." His words fell slightly as he spotted something that looked like a blue circle underneath the other's shirt. "What is _that_?" Tony blinked at him confusedly before he looked down at his chest, his mouth forming an 'o' shape in realization.

"You remember the Arc reactor back at home?"

"That supper battery that powers your building, right?"

"Yeah, that one. I adapted it and it is basically keeping me alive."

"...Why am I not surprised?" Tony waved him off, pushing himself up and nearly stumbling in the process.

"'Cause I'm me and I'm awesome."

The coronel could only shake his head with a sense of fondness. Seeing Tony here, being...well, himself, felt so surreal. He felt an overwhelming relief and most of the rational questions, like why he didn't look absurdly dehydrated or weak from traveling through the desert or how he had escaped, were pushed aside for a later date. He focused in the now, in the fact that his friend was _alive._ He never noticed how distracted Tony seemed, as if he was off into his own, mental world.

To Tony, the next hours felt like they went by in a flash. Sure, he had had time to recover back at Grimmauld place or whatever, but he and Harry had been walking through the desert for a long time, about an hour give or take and not only did he feel tired, but one of his legs hurt a lot more than the other. Now that he had gotten a basic check up, he was informed that he had strained a muscle in said leg, which was annoying because they insisted that he kept walking to a minimum for the moment.

The plus side of it all was that, all the while, he was able to see a pretty interesting piece of technology at work. Well, 'seeing' wasn't the right word, because it was invisible, but the point stood. After they had arrived to the desert after several stops along the way through what Harry described as shadows -which, first of all, cool, and second of all, what the hell?- the male had taken out of thin air what looked like a silver piece of cloth, just to turn it around and put it over himself, effectively disappearing from sight.

He wondered if he'd be willing to let him borrow it...for science, of course.

Every now and again, he'd receive a small nudge or a pat on the arm, as if reminding or reassuring him that he was still there. He didn't doubt it, but it was a rather nice gesture considering how standoffish and uncaring the male seemed at first glance, with his endless green stare and initially professional demeanor.

Eventually, Rhodey took him -on a wheelchair, mind you- to the plane that'd take them back to the states. He had had to debrief everything that had happened to him from start to finish to the colonel for official reasons, leaving out some bits and pieces. He used rest the time they traveled to sleep, fully intending on being as awake as he could be once they arrived.

The landing was as smooth as it could be and, as the back of the plane opened to let them out, Tony was suddenly hit by just how long it had been since he had been captured. Sure, he wasn't aware of most of it, probably because of the heavy blood loss that he had sustained, but everything felt livelier than he remembered. He was brought out of his thoughts by James' voice as he warned him about a possible misstep. He lifted his head, rolling his eyes at the stretcher that was being rolled towards them.

"Are you kidding me with that? Get rid of them." He said with finality, earning himself a small snort from Harry, who followed them close enough to let himself be heard by only him. Rhodey immediately motioned at the paramedics, making them stop before he let him walk the rest of the path to his car on his own. It wasn't impossible, just painful.

Pepper Potts, his beautiful redheaded assistant, stood next to the vehicle, looking as tired as she was relieved, her eyes were puffy and her posture was still a bit tense, nevertheless, one could tell that she was somewhat happy to see him. He approached and stood in front of her, keeping on a calm facade as he spoke.

"Your eyes are red. A few tears for your long lost boss?" She gave him a small smile.

"Tears of joy. I hate job hunting."

"Yeah, vacation's over."

He had started to walk after Pepper when he felt a hand grip his wrist. Before he could ask Harry what he wanted, he felt something being placed in the palm of his hand. It felt cold and, to his surprise, it stung him as if he had put his hand against a peeled cable. He turned his head to glare at the general area where he felt that the other stood.

"What the hell-"

"-Just put it on, I'll be right behind you." The other's tired voice was right next to his ear.

He blinked at the empty space as the grasp disappeared, letting him move freely. He looked down at his palm, only to recognize the object as the necklace that he had seen around Harry's neck back at Grimmauld place. He sighed to himself and put it around his own neck as he stared intently at the gemstone it held...at least, that's what he thought it was, who knew with the strange things that had happened recently.

"Tony?" The Stark jumped slightly, startled and winced at the sudden sting on his leg. "Are you okay?" Pepper asked, looking at him with concern from beside the car. He forced himself to nod, easily slipping into a more relaxed posture. He walked to the vehicle, he had things to do.

Harry stared at him as they left, calculating emerald eyes watching the car disappear from his line of sight. The absence of the necklace felt...weird. He was so used to the small weight settled on his chest that he felt like he was missing a little part of himself. He sighed and resolved to hide in the nearby hangar, intent on using his shadows once more.

Riding on a car with so many people was a risk because something could get caught on the cloak, revealing him abruptly and that would be quite startling...That's what he told himself, but truthfully, the reason he hadn't wanted to go along with them was because the idea of being in such an enclosed space unnerved him a little -No, it did _not_ scare him, that would be absurd.

He relaxed his posture and called upon the energy that swirled inside him…but it wasn't Death's blessing that answered.

Instead of cold, his body felt as of it had been light aflame, burning with alien intensity. He felt as if he was being compressed into a small pebble. Distantly, he heard the roaring force of his magic engulf him, drowning him in its oppressing power. He was weightless, floating in a non-existent plane that felt familiar in spite of the flaring pain.

And then he like he was being pulled from his navel and the sensation of roughly hitting the floor, knocking the air out of him. He curled up, his body shivering from the new shift in temperatures as he took many deep breaths, feeling as if the air wasn't enough to fill his lungs. As he started to regain awareness, he noticed a hand awkwardly rubbing his arm as it muttered to itself at a fast pace. Drowsily, he blinked at whoever was touching him, violet orbs looking at him with concern.

"He...Hecate?" He groaned with confusion and sat up, trying to hold back the urge to vomit. He shuddered at the empty sensation that assaulted him. "What did you do?"

"What did I-what did _you_ do?" The goddess of magic said defensively, pulling her hand away. "I was just supervising one of my american settlements when I felt an absurdly powerful apparition. It's not my fault that you were trying to go to the other side of the world!"

"Apparition?" He asked, puzzled. "But I don't...no, I was trying to use Death's shadows."

"Right. I know an apparition when I see one, there's no need to lie. Still, you should've been more careful, didn't your teachers at Hogwarts lecture you about how easily one can be splinched when doing something so reckless? What would we do if you had killed yourself?"

He scowled as Hecate continued to berate him because the name Hogwarts was difficult for him to recognize. The vague sense of deja vu confirmed that, yes, he knew that place, but picturing it only worsened his tiredness, his body actively fighting against him remembering. Harry resolved to simply shrug, letting her burn herself out.

"I'm sorry." He apologized, but it was more out of habit. He wasn't even sure if Hecate knew that he had next to no memories at all, but he felt it was more of a chore to explain that.

"...well, at least I found you, so no harm done..." She breathed out with exasperation, running a hand through her charcoal colored hair. "I needed to speak to you anyways."

"...Is it urgent?" He asked warily, he kind of had to catch up with Stark...

"Absolutely." He nodded slowly and stood up, taking the hand that she offered him.

"About?"

"It's Lachesis." She muttered as she conjured up a satchel, reaching her whole arm into it. "She made a prophecy a couple of days ago, but we had no way to contact you." That caught his attention completely. Lachesis, as a dying goddess, rarely used her own powers unless it was absolutely necessary. To hear that she had made a prophecy...

"What blessed soul should I keep an eye out for?" He hoped it was Stark, he wanted a bit of a break before he went out to search for another one…

"No, not a blessed soul." She finally took out a small black cube. "It's about you."

Again, he felt like he had gone through something like this before. This time, however, the whispered words of 'neither can live while the other survives' floated into his mind. They made him feel a fiery thing in his chest, burning a lot harsher than his own magic, suffocating even. Something snapped inside him as he glowered at the goddess, who winced lightly at his heated, emerald gaze.

"No." He said with finality. "I won't have anything to do with another prophecy."

"I-Harry-you can't just-" The violet-eyed goddess spluttered, clearly shocked by his response. "Look, if this is about Death's feud with Skuld, you don't need to worry. Not all goddesses of fate are like her."

" ' ." He didn't know what had taken over him so suddenly, pushing him to speak against a simple prophecy. "I'm sick of everyone choosing my destiny. First was Dumbledore" _Who is Dumbledore?_ "Then it was Trelawney-" What? No, _what was he talking about? Justforgetjustforgetjustforget._ "I have the choice to defy whatever stupid fate they decide to get me into."

 _ **...But I don't want to forget.**_

Hecate pierced through him with a look that he couldn't comprehend, probably looking into his soul like he knew she could. She stared at him in the eye, confusion flashing in her expression before it settled into an ugly frown.

"...You don't need to listen to it if you don't want to, just...take the damn thing." She muttered, thrusting the cube into his hands. Her voice was weird, cold. "But if you do listen, remember to keep it away from prying eyes, she was insistent that only you were to know of it." She swiftly turned on her heel, disappearing with a loud snapping noise. Still feeling angry, he shoved the black object into his pocket.

"Of course, who do they think they are? Thinking they can control us just because they say so." He whispered to himself, gritting his teeth. He took ahold of Death's blessing, forcefully pushing down the feeling of his magic and letting it prickle him from underneath his skin. "We have destroyed their lines before, we can do it again." The shadows aggressively lunged at him, hugging his figure far more than they usually did and dragging him down into the ground. "But they are lucky; right now, we have things to tend to."

His eyes were no longer emerald nor golden, but the color of red garnets, deep, bright and ever-changing.

 **(Updated on July 17, 2018)**

 **So, I was planning to delay this update so that I could upload it along with the next one, but it's my birthday and I wanted to at least do something, so, here :P**


	10. Chapter 7

**Chapter seven**

 **Some surprises**

It took various jumps and, at some point, he decidedly gave up on using the shadows as a transport and opened his wings. He cast a notice-me-not spell and, wanting to waste the least amount possible on his already low reserves of magic, he immediately lifted into the air...that didn't mean he went any faster, as a matter of fact, flying was considerably slower than traveling through shadows or apparition, but it sure did keep his magic consuming to the lowest level compared to those two.

Sometimes, he missed his Firebolt.

By the time he arrived to the place that he sensed that the stone was, he was starting to feel irritated again. His wings folded neatly once he descended into an alleyway and he exited it whilst trying to make his hair look presentable. From the outside, he could see that Tony was speaking to someone. He reconned that the two had to know each other, after all, there was some sense of familiarity.

He entered the building, shocked, for a second, when Tony directed a quick, knowing glance at him before looking back at the unknown man. He would have chucked it up to him being weirded out by the door opening 'on their own' since he shouldn't be able to notice him even if he was looking right at him, but he had looked slightly up, he didn't need to think much to remember that the man could somehow see his wings despite only those close to death being able to see them, much like thestrals yet not... he wouldn't put it past him to be able to see through the spell.

He got rid of the charm and walked up to him, making sure that he looked nervous enough to throw the stranger off and pull the genius away. He didn't really mean to be rude -well, that was a lie, right now he wanted to curse everyone into oblivion- but he was tired like hell and he couldn't keep away from him for long or else they ran the risk of Fate or that one all-seer noticing them and that, honestly, was one problem he wasn't ready to face head on just yet. Yes, he may have gone against her a few times already, but cutting her lines? Only once or twice and never with a blessed soul.

Anyways, back to the matter at hand, he grabbed Tony's sleeve to catch his attention once more, which wasn't too difficult since he had already been distracted once and looked a bit out of it to the trained eye. Now that he thought about it, he actually seemed distraught by something…

"Listen to me, Tony. We're a team, do you understand? There's nothing we can't do if we-"

"M-mr. Stark?" He mumbled, adding a nervous stutter for good measure to avoid looking suspicious, at least Quirrell was useful for something. "I-I wanted to th-thank you f-for your help back at Afghanistan…" He seemed to catch both men off guard as they both had a slightly startled look on their faces. Tony, however, was the first one to recover.

"Oh...yeah, sure, give me a minute-"

"No, no, it's alright. I'm sure the kid must've had to wait a long time to see you." So he said, but Harry could hear some displeasure filtered in his voice and he prided himself in being capable of reading second intentions, it was part of his nature.

"Th-thank you, sir…?"

"Obadiah Stane."

Why did that sound so darn familiar?...Well, whatever, he'd figure it out later, for now, he bowed his head lightly and pulled the genius along, who was starting to look more and more amused by the second. He didn't pay attention to him as they walked towards the vehicle that had been waiting for Tony to take him back home.

"You stutter? Huh, you're very nervous for being a 'death god'" It took Harry all he had not to wince at the obvious jab.

"I don't stutter, it's called being cautious. How did the conference go?"

"How did…It went good enough I guess, I'm still alive" He shrugged "Now you'll explain what you left for?"

"A calling." He mumbled, worry flashing again in his eyes when he remembered he had to deal with another prophecy. "Some goddesses wanted me to know a certain turn of events...by the way, I don't think Lady Fate is very happy with us."

"What did I do? You were the one that cut the 'thread' or whatever" He frowned as Harry rolled his eyes.

"Well, sorry for saving your soul."

Tony merely shrugged before handing him the Resurrection Stone -unaware of the great power that the little thing represented- and getting inside the car, followed by the small shadow, who looked back at the building, noticing that Obadiah had been staring at them the whole time that they spoke. He glared at him from behind the blackened window, trying to see the secrets of his soul with a single staredown, but it was futile, because the man left shortly after on his own vehicle.

There was a nagging in the back of his head that told him that, indeed, he knew the name 'Obadiah Stane' from somewhere, he had probably read it in the archives, but he couldn't be completely sure. Then there was the strange aura that the man gave off...trust him, he knew shady people when he saw them. He'd have to ask Gabe or Az to give a look as soon as he had created runes to hide Tony's home from asgardian eyes...

He stayed quiet, twirling the stone in his fingers as an unconscious method to handle stress; one would think that, after handling an entire army whilst going into war with two other factions, he'd be better managing himself...honestly, he might be a strong wizard, possibly the strongest one in his age group, and once a great teacher in Defense, but he was useless when it came to keeping complete calm. He was still clumsy, even if he had tried his darn hardest to not be, he was still reluctant to open up, he was still unable to speak what he truly felt. The only reason he had survived the war long ago was thanks to…

His fingers closed abruptly around the gem-like stone before letting it slowly fuse into his own magic, shivering lightly as the . Having it in his care usually brought back bad memories, faces, events...and that was a can of worms that he wasn't about to open, not now, not ever, he wasn't ready for that kind of emotional distress.

"Hey, kiddo, are you...feeling alright?" The voice made him flinch as his head snapped up, noticing that he might've been staring at his own hands for a little too long. What he hadn't known, however, was that his magic had slowly started to fluctuate, making the man feel as if static washed all over his body.

"Yes." He mumbled, relaxing his expression and rubbing his eyelids with his fingers. Tony, however, knew better. He might not have known the guy for long, but even he could see that he was dead on his feet, no pun intended. "And drop the 'kiddo', I've already told you I'm older than I look."

"Really now?" He hadn't expected the emerald eyes to glare at him as their owner spoke.

"I'll have you know that I'm twenty eight, you ass."

There was a small, shocked silence as the information hit the Stark like a train. He looked at Harry once more, his mind trying to comprehend what he was looking at, but he couldn't. The 'god' was just way too short to be anywhere close to thirty. Maybe a woman could be his size, but he still lacked some height either way. It wasn't that he hadn't seen different body types either, but that still didn't explain his size and, most importantly, the youth that was reflected in his face that was only affected by the eyes with knowledge far beyond their physical age…

Just thinking of that made his head ache, so he decided to deviate from that complicated route and question it later on, when he was in a less stressful space.

Instead, he let his gaze wander a little, making as if he wasn't being affected by the fact that the rather...petite male was the age he claimed he was. He studied him more closely, but he knew not what to look for, a sign of lie? A sign of physical age? Well, those were impossible to find beyond the stress and tension that plagued his expression... He honestly had no idea of what he was doing, but, apparently, he wasn't being discreet enough, because the emerald eyed enigma cleared his throat, making him lose focus for a brief second.

"Sta...Tony, can I ask you for a favor?" The younger one mumbled, sighing with a hint of defeat.

"As long as it's nothing illegal." He said right away, a bit grateful for not being discovered.

"It's not. I'm just...a little...tired." He said cautiously, but there was a red tint to his cheeks. The older one had trouble trying to think why the other would be embarrassed of all things "Could you wake me up once we arrive?"

"Sure thing, go ahead."

"...Thanks."

Another, more awkward silence settled itself. To the man's surprise, however, it wasn't long before the younger one fell into a deep sleep, showing just how truly tired he had felt.

First there had been subtle changes, a deeper breathing and the relaxation of features along with gently shut eyes. His overall posture seemed drastically different, for his lean body actually giving him a more delicate appearance that was a complete juxtaposition to how he presented himself. His eyebrow raised, however, by the other, more obvious sign that the other was certainly too tired.

After all, he had never suspected the emerald eyed 'god' to be a _snuggler_ of all things.

He didn't have the heart to wake him up as promised, so, instead, he asked Happy, his driver and bodyguard, to carry him inside. He probably would've done the job himself, Harry certainly looked like he was very light, but his arm wasn't up to the task, cast and all… Now that he thought about it, he forgot to ask what the hell it was with his hurt arm…

Nothing he could do now, he guessed, he'd just wait until the younger one woke up. For now, he had to figure out in which direction to take the Arc Reactor's development.

He could already feel a migraine settle in his head.

He went to his workshop almost immediately, letting Harry take his bedroom for now, it wasn't like he used it anyways. A couple of hours went by and a chill went up his spine. He was building another energy source for his chest, for the one that he was using was practically improvised, some of the most intricate parts having been replaced by others in order for it to function. While he was used to staying up, almost even for many days, he didn't understand why he was feeling restless. Everything he was doing had a hint of excitement despite him having done the procedure several times before.

It wasn't until JARVIS spoke up that he knew for certain that something was wrong.

"Sir, there appears to be some sort of foreign energy in the atmosphere. I am unable to identify it from the database, but the source seems to be your guest."

He set down a small tool he had been working with and stood up from the bench, sighing loudly. While he didn't believe the whole 'god' thing, at least, not completely, he did believe the aspect of magic. Being a god was debatable, at least, by human definition; magic, on the other hand, had been proven to him many times already. Everything that Harry did practically screamed magic.

Tony walked to the bedroom and waited for the AI to open it. After it didn't happen, he voiced out his desire to enter the room.

"There seem to be some complications. My access to the door's management is currently offline."

"What the-"

Then he remembered something that Harry had mentioned back at Grim's place. He had configured the Arc Reactor. He had mentioned 'magnetic waves', but he was pretty sure that he was speaking, instead, of his mystical energy. He cursed as he realized that he meant that his magic affected technology as a whole.

Instead, he pushed the closed door, surprised by how easy it was to move around since, without JARVIS command over it, the thing should've been locked. He sucked in a sharp breath when he _saw_ the so called magic that, up until that moment, had been invisible.


	11. Chapter 8

**Chapter eight**

 **He who feels pain and hatred**

Should anybody ask Tony Stark why he was day and night isolated from society in his workshop, he'd say he was working on the reactor. Either that or he wouldn't answer at all, it was a simple as that.

Should he say the truth, however, he would admit that he was a tiny bit scared.

He could still remember the feeling of electricity in the air, making the hairs on his neck stand like a cat's. He could remember the tendrils of light that moved like tentacles, attached to the younger male who seemed unable to notice them in his deep sleep state. A mist of colors clouded the room, but the most predominant ones were blue and yellow. Even his current reactor shone a hint brighter, if that was even possible…For the first time since he had met the male, he could see the extent of his magic. One might think it'd be a beautiful sight but, to be honest, it was just terrifying.

"Now, make sure that when you pull it out you don't y-" Pain flared and he felt unable to pull enough air into his lungs. Yes, he was afraid of the wizard and all, but he was starting to regret having his assistant help him with his current...issue once he noticed her panicking. "That's it. You just pulled it out."

"Oh, God, what do I-?"

"I was not-don't put it back in!" The beeping of the monitors didn't help at all.

"Okay, okay, what do I do? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just-going into cardiac arrest because you-"

"What? You told me this was safe!"

"Okay, take this, hurry." His vision blurred slightly as he passed her the blue glowing piece of invaluable technology. Had he be paying attention, he would've noticed that her eyes became dull for a second before lighting up with an unnatural gleam to them. "You gotta switch it out quick."

"Okay. Okay. Tony?"

"What?"

"It's going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay"

"Just do it." Was she joking? This was too serious and delicate to waste time on things like this. "Attach th-the wire t-to the base p-plate...make s-sure you-ugh!" An electric impulse ran all across his body, waking him up like a good cup of strong coffee, only a ghost of pain in his chest remaining. Pepper was breathing heavily, heart racing as she saw the genius smirk at her. "Was that so heart? That was fun, right?" Even he knew the answer to that. "Here, I got it." He put a hand over the thing that kept him alive to stop her from touching it further. "Nice."

"Are you okay?" She asked, breathless.

"Yeah, I feel great. You okay?"

"Don't ever, ever, EVER ask me to do something like that again." She said and he couldn't help but laugh lightly. She smiled at him.

"But I don't have anyone else but you."

He saw what might've looked like a shadow move from the periphery of his vision, but he was still too lightheaded to notice or focus on what it was, even when the doors seemed to open and close on their own. He did feel, however, the slight static residue in the air, that stung lightly .

Harry wasn't staying in that room any longer.

He didn't know why, but watching their interaction actually hurt, making painful snippets of memories surface from the dark pit that was his mind. Well, truth was...he did know, he just didn't want to face it. Deep down, he knew that it hurt to know that he couldn't see friends or his family ever again, after all, they had all started their rebirth a long time ago. His friends, his family...no one was left except for him. He really didn't have anyone else but himself.

And it was all his fault.

His magic, already overflowing because the man had failed to wake him up, was fluctuating dangerously, making the cloak's invisibility aspect falter along with it. If Pepper noticed said fault, she didn't mention it, for which he was grateful. Losing control like this, almost as if he didn't know how to do magic at all, it made him feel vulnerable...it admittedly didn't help his situation, for his anguish only caused his energy to react accordingly. Plus, he hated for people to see him in that state.

He would've ran outside, but he wasn't sure how the wards would hold up to his lashing magic, so he decided to go upstairs, as far away as possible from the couple. He curled up in the corner of the room that he had woken up some days ago, feeling unsafe and unstable. He whined, still trying to concentrate in reigning in the power that he possessed.

He hated being weak, he hated being on his own. He was tired and he wanted to not have to hide, he wanted, for once, to be free to do whatever he wanted despite the stupid situations that the world had for him. His breathing quickened, feeling that he might be having a panic attack, but he was too busy freaking out to notice, thank you very much.

"Do you feel alright, sir?" Spoke a disembodied voice, scaring the living lights out of him. He snapped his head up, looking all around him, searching for a culprit. His vision blurred, but he knew it couldn't be due to the electricity, after all, he wasn't trying to see any souls. He lifted a hand and rubbed at his eyes, frowning.

"W-who are you?"

The voice spoke again "I am JARVIS, sir. Do you feel alright?" Harry felt tempted to say yes, but a tremor went through his body, making him wince again as the tendrils of magic threatened to lash out once more.

"Go away!"

"Is there anything I can do to assist you?" As the AI asked the question, it had already warned the other people in the house. Harry had barely heard him anyways, burrowing his fingers into his hair, shaking his head in denial. "Sir, please concentrate in my voice."

The doors opened on their own to let in both Tony and Pepper, the later who seemed very concerned and the former looking wary but no less worried as the younger male huddled into the corner of the room, trying to make himself -and his magic- as small as possible. The woman was the first to react, walking to him and kneeling down, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Wide eyes lifted to meet hers, but the reaction she got was unexpected, for his eyes were filled with hate, blind to the real world as soon as he set eyes on red hair. His skin glowed unnaturally and Tony's voice made her stumble back, eyeing him with disbelief. One thing was witnessing technologic advances, but she could feel that this was something different...something ancient and it was dangerous.

"Pepper, step back."

"I-what is he?"

"...I don't know."

Carefully, Tony decided to get closer. He took quiet steps before he sat down in front of the smaller figure, who had gone back to clawing at his scalp while keeping his head low, unaware of the newer presence. He didn't touch him on the shoulder like Pepper had done, not wanting to startle him and setting loose whatever lurked beneath the male's skin.

"Uh-" Once more, wide eyes snapped up to him. They were easier to read than before, reflecting a pure sense of fear, almost animalistic in nature. "Hey, what's wrong?" He tried to sound calm, managing to do so with surprising ease, although concern managed to make its way to his words. The male didn't answer, but kept staring intensely.

Only then did he realize something important, his eyes weren't emerald, but rather golden. Not any shade either, it was pure gold, no flecks of green or amber. Those eyes seemed to stare into his soul, which he didn't doubt could be happening. Finally, the paler male spoke weakly.

"...Sorry."

"What?"

"Sorry, so-sorry." That voice didn't sound like Harry at all. It was young, broken. It was devoid of any other emotion that wasn't fear. It felt more human, sure, but it also didn't feel completely alive.

"Calm down, you don't need to-"

"Sorry, I beg you." It was desperate, whoever this person was, it was completely different from the person he had spent time with. Much to Tony's distress, Harry's golden eyes glistened with tears and the man had no idea how to deal with that situation at all.

"Please..." Aggressively yet not hurting him, the deity's hands clung onto the cloth of the man's shirt.

"It's alright, I...forgive you?" He mumbled with confusion. He looked over his shoulder at Pepper, who looked just as shocked as he was. While she was uncomfortable around the male, she had spoken to him every now and then, this just didn't seem right.

"But they don't." Pale hands reached to the long, black hair that their owner possessed, running through it nervously. "They don't…"

"Harry, I need you to make sense, bud. Who's 'they'?"

"No Harry. They hate, I know, I know." There was some muttering, almost intelligible, but Tony didn't need to hear him to decide to put a stop to this nonsense, because the hands were starting to scratch at their own skin, leaving marks and even drawing blood with how strong he was doing so. He took the male by the wrists, pinning him down.

It turned out to not be the brightest move.

There was a loud scream as the boy thrashed. Tony could barely hold not-Harry down, who seemed to possess some strength that was very contradictory when it came to his psyche. Harry looked...thinner than he remembered. His wrists were bony and, the more he looked down at him, the more he could see sunken cheeks.

"Jarvis, I need an ambulance."

"Right away, sir."

"No, don't! Don't hurt! I'll do anything!"

"Harry, I'm not going to hurt you!"

"No Harry. Lie! Y-you lie...Everyone hurts..." Slowly, but surely, the struggles started to recede until the smaller black haired male was left a disaster, tears falling down his cheeks desperately and acting as if it was his death day. "Don't hurt…" He whispered once more.

"I won't, I promise. If you can at least calm down and explain why you're doing this-"

"...I hurt…" He whined reluctantly

"Where?" He asked with wild concern reflected in his own eyes. Had he pressed his wrists too hard?

"..." The younger one looked at his hand as he tried to wiggle it out. Tony let him have it so that he could point out where he felt pain. "Everywhere hurts...but here more." He touched the other's chest with weak fingers before he moved in such a way that his forehead leaned against it. There was a flash was the Arc Reactor glowed with more strength before it dimmed down.

"What was that now?" He asked, looking down at the blue circle that shone from under his shirt. He looked back at the other male and witnessed, bewildered, how the golden started to melt away, only to be replaced with their usual emerald glow. There were some owlish blinking before a frown appeared

"Wha-Tony?" The male muttered with confusion. "What are you doing here? Wait, no, what are you _doing?_ " The Stark looked at him, but, while he still felt how thin his wrists were, there was no sign of the skeletal-like Harry he had started to see

Tony had never been more confused in his life.

 **A/N:**

 **Woah, Harry did a one-eight there...Yes, this is on purpose, I did not suddenly forget that my version of Harry doesn't actually act like this. Anyways...I just went to see the new Thor movie :D It was pretty fun and, thankfully, it doesn't create much conflict with what I had planned regarding some of the characters. By the way, I had to change Harry's age to 28 after reviewing the timeline I am using (Still, there's a chance that I will mess up and not notice because fuck the timeline XD). Hope you liked the chapter! Write ya later!**


	12. Chapter 9

**Chapter nine**

 **What I fear**

"Mr. Stark, Mr. Potter, can I have a word with you two?"

Harry still was pretty lost as to what they were doing there, he stared at the white walls of the hospital before he stood up. He never liked hospitals, the smell bothered him and he couldn't really say he was fond even of healers or healer wards.

 _Please, help._

 _It hurts._

 _Save me._

 _I don't want to leave them!_

 _See me! I beg you..._

And then there was the wailings...Those were definitely the worst.

"Harry, are you…?"

"I'm fine." He whispered, feeling weak but trying to uphold a calm-if-annoyed front.

"You...don't look like it." He could tell that Tony was trying to be sensitive, although he was blunt at best. He didn't mind, as a matter of fact, he would've been a bit angrier had it come out like he was speaking to a child. "And your eyes are kind of golden."

But he couldn't help it, for his magic ran overdrive in his distress. His head spun as he tried to recall just what he might've done to prompt the Stark to take him to the hospital. He couldn't do it. The screams didn't help, he tried not to look at the souls that waited, attached by a few strings to their body, nor could he handle the sight of the children that haunted the halls, some chasing after the other, invisible to human eyes.

"Really?" Came his noncommittal response. A childish laughter echoed the halls, making him feel dizzy. His fists were squeezed tight. "...I just don't like hospitals..." He even went out of his way just to not walk in front of them. He didn't like seeing the dead, specially here. He always managed to somehow tune himself out whenever he was in duty, but he wasn't prepared for this. There were too many, some bloody, some not. But they were all there, all the same.

His stomach churned.

"Why didn't you tell the nurses or something?" He shrugged. "Well, man up, it'll only be a few minutes."

Right now, he really, really didn't like the man. Still, he preferred being as far away as possible from the running ghosts, having to walk very close to him instead and, honestly, he didn't care, he'd take Stark over phantoms any day. He barely acknowledged that they had entered another room, collapsing onto the chair and keeping his gaze focused on his own hands.

He could hear speaking, but he was already blocking it out. He felt scared, mostly of his own body, that didn't seem able to calm itself enough for him to regain a cent of composure. His magic, at least, wasn't about to tear his skin, but it still flowed fast, racing through his veins like blood.

With his attention focusing in and out, he caught very few words exchanged between the two living ones. Some would have alarmed him under normal circumstances, but he could barely make any sense of them. 'Bones' 'Mistake' 'Identity' and 'Help' were some of them, although he couldn't be too sure, his ears filled with incoherent screams from all around

"-arry!"

His eyes snapped up

"Hey, brat, lost you for a second there. Come on, we're leaving."

"I-wha-?" He mumbled incoherently, but didn't resist the gentle push on his back.

"We have stuff to talk about."

An hour and a half after they had gotten back in the car to head back to the Stark's mansion, Harry started to be able to think coherently, but his memories of everything weren't clear enough for him to recall everything with precision. Then there was the fact that, whenever he started to remember, he heard hopeless screaming. Yeah, he was having none of that.

He brought his legs up to his chest, frowning.

"Willing to speak now?" He looked up at the older male

"What about?"

"I don't know, the cold shoulder? Or what about what the doctor said?"

It took him a few moments before he flushed in embarrassment and he noticed it was the second time his cheeks flared up with heat in a week. Things like that didn't usually happen to him, was he getting sick? He knew he couldn't die from it, but could he even get sick anymore?

"S-sorry, I didn't pay attention to what he said…" Tony sighed and nodded lightly

"To be expected"

"What do you mean?" He mumbled, swearing to himself that, if he got some snarky remark, he would most definitely punch him.

"You were out of it whenever I looked at you"

"Oh...o-oh, that…"

"Care to fill me in as to why you seemed about to scream?"

"..."

"Is it because of your schizophrenia?"

"Okay, where did _that_ come from?"

"Doctor said you might have it" He said, lifting his hands in surrender "You kept looking at things that weren't there and mumbling to yourself..."

"I certainly not-Look, I am heir to Death, yes?" Tony nodded, dully noting that he hadn't called himself a god. "I was stressed and my eyes were golden, I believe you pointed that out?" The older one could see where this conversation was going "I inherited those eyes from death, they let me...see...souls."

"...oh."

"Oh? What do you mean ' _oh'_ "

"It just makes a little more sense."

"What else did the doctor say?"

"He said they were mostly theories..."

"Building dramatic effect won't work with me, Stark, just say it."

"Easy there, midget, I was getting there." To the genius, the glare was totally worth it. "He mentioned the possibility of dissociative disorders, most likely Dissociative Identity Disorder, but there was nothing definitive because they were pretty sure it could've been just the schizophrenia."

"That's stupid...I don't have dissacio...diss..." He frowned once he noticed that the word itself escaped him.

"Dissociations?"

"That…" He mumbled "Why did they even think that?"

"Well, you did look rather lost when you calmed down, you didn't remember almost snapping at Pepper."

"Because I didn't, why the hell would I attack a civilian unprovoked?"

"Beats me, I was only telling you what I saw. You were even crying."

"I-" Oh, look at that, a third blush. "-I didn't _cry."_

"...I mean, you can say whatever you want, I can ask Jarvis to show you later."

"Jarvis?"

"My A.I."

"I...won't even ask."

Tony hmmm'ed before, much to the younger one's confusion, he took ahold of his wrist. He gave him a weird look before shrugging and resting against the seat and looking out the window, letting the other male do whatever shenanigans he had set his mind to do.

The older one knew that he might've smiled due to his own theory being confirmed, but only anger bubbled in the pits of his gut. The doctor had said two more things, but it was clear to him that Harry didn't want to hear it.

The first one was about the x-rays looking too blurry to determine anything. He had guessed that it was due to the younger one's 'magic', but he had yet to completely confirm that, his only clue as to what might've happened had been one of Harry's off-hand comments back when they were at Grimm's House.

The second thing, however, was more concerning and was the source of his theory. His blood had signs of malnutrition and, while Harry didn't look thin, his height and weight told another story. Tony remembered thinking that the smaller one's wrists felt weird a couple hours prior and this only proved him right, for his hand clasped onto a bony wrist that didn't feel like what he saw at all.

"Can I have my hand back, Stark?" Mumbled the younger one, making the Stark remember that he was still holding onto him.

"Sure. And for the record, I told you to call me Tony."

He pulled his hand back, muttering a quiet 'whatever' before putting it on the seat and turning his head to the window one more time. From where the taller one was, he could see red cheeks that contrasted greatly against pale skin.

"Tony?"

"What?"

"...At the risk of sounding childish, may I know why you were avoiding me?"

"Don't take it personal, I ignore everyone. And you always sound childish."

"Ignoring and outright avoiding are very different things, you know?" There were a few seconds of silence before Harry bit his lip, feeling oddly nervous. "Ugh, you're right, I was putting more weight on it than I sh-"

"It was your magic." Said the genius, only a beat later "I...the night that you slept in my room...your magic was acting all weird." He shrugged as if the event hadn't freaked him out at all. "It moved like snakes...or maybe an octopus and you somehow made this mist."

"...well, I did tell you to wake me up."

"Hm?"

"I was tired and sleeping, so my magic latched onto any piece of energy it could find to replenish itself and, unless I adapt a place to my magic, everything is fair game." He quickly explained. Hecate had told him just how magic acted around technology. The reason things malfunctioned when wizardry was involved was because of the energy being pulled towards a piece of technology instead of it being pulled towards the wizard. It was matter of control and raw power.

"I thought as much...So...think you can adapt some things for me?" Wondered the genius, getting a small smirk from the teen-looking male.

"If you want. Are you going to tell me what you've been working on?"

"How do you know I've been working on something?"

"You don't look the type to brood locked in a room and do nothing when something bothers you."

"True. It's a secret project."

"Whatever it is, I'm not saving your ass from possible death." Which was a big fat lie, after all, it was currently his job not to let him die stupidly.

"Fair enough."

For the first time since they had met, the silence that took over was actually comfortable, relaxing even. Neither of them spoke, busy in their own little worlds. Harry already had many things to worry about, but, as much as he didn't like the idea, he had to consider that the...dissociations...could be a thing. Could it affect how he worked?...Who was he kidding? He might not even have it -them?- and his job was still as taxing as ever.

Once they arrived back at the Stark's mansion, Tony went back to his working space, death entity in tow. The genius didn't mind, as a matter of fact, he prefered having him in his line of sight in case anything weird happened again. Unlike the 'god', he was almost completely sure that the doctor had been right. Up until now, everything checked out...except, of course, the schizophrenia, but that had already been answered by the smaller male himself.

Instead of worrying, he set his mind on what he had been planning ever since he had started to build his new Reactor.

"Jarvis, you there?"

"Yes, sir."

"Create a new file, Mark II"

Despite him not being all that familiar with technology, Harry immediately knew what he was talking about. He didn't try to persuade him out of it, a part of him was actually thrilled to know the end result. Even if he already knew that his soul was blessed, a couple of words echoed in his head.

'This man will be a hero.'

And, truly, he had no idea of how right that statement would be...or the headaches it'd give him.

 **A/N:**

 **For once, I have nothing to say, uh...happy late Thanksgiving? (When even is Thanksgiving? uh...I'll Google it I guess)**


	13. Chapter 10

**Chapter ten**

 **Flight terrors**

"This is so not a good idea…" He mumbled, holding up the camera that had been given to him whilst sitting on floor.

"I disagree."

"Tony, I tell you from experience, things tend to go awry when flying." He could still feel the hit of the Bludger...not fun. "Besides, last time you said the same thing and you ended up face first into the wall."

"That was a miscalculation" Spluttered the male, speaking a hint quieter than usual and with a frown decorating his expression "Just start recording."

"Fine, fine." He started up the device "Day 11, Test 37, Configuration 2.0." He said, loud and clear so that the audio could pick it up.

Things had been relatively calm since what the Stark had dubbed _The incident;_ the first time he had used it, the emerald eyed scion had promptly whacked him in the head, but it had kind of stuck anyways. Harry had taken to sit down silently and watch the other one work; his input was usually kept to the minimum other than helping with a magnifying glass, passing tools or infusing small quantities of magic so that, should he become too tired, he wouldn't ruin the other one's work. More than once, he had had to pull him away from the workshop for him to eat something or get some sleep.

Honestly, sometimes he wondered just who was the older one here.

Every now and then, the silent pace that they settled in -besides Tony's mumbling and comments- would be interrupted. Usually it'd be the man's secretary, but Harry tended to try and stay away from or make as if he didn't notice her. Other times, it had been the wizard's advocates, the angels, who periodically brought him paperwork as they searched for the souls with not much success. It almost looked like they were hiding…

His attention was snatched the moment that the repulsors started humming with energy. His own magic vibrated with anticipation as the male lifted slowly from the ground, trying to keep himself stable enough to stay in place. A grin appeared on the genius' face as he came down. It was almost smug, but Harry let him enjoy the results of his work.

"Alright, let's up it to 2.5."

"Tony, no."

"Tony, yes." He barely had time to look cocky before he was lifted once more, noticeably struggling a little more to keep his upright position.

The shorter male didn't bother trying to help, because, even if the place was being made a mess of, with scorch marks on the cars and papers scattered all around, the older one seemed actually delighted as he slowly managed to direct himself. And the emerald eyed scion would be having trouble saying that this wasn't impressive. While he had a basic understanding on technology and was able to understand most of Tony's instructions regarding his help with the suit, this was something that no wizard could've ever expected a muggle to achieve. He watched the man's feet touch the ground and he walked up to him, unable to keep the smile off his face.

"Congrats, seems like you made it."

"I'm not done yet"

"You...aren't?"

"Nope." He lifted a hand and pointed at the other male with a determined look "Let's do a test flight."

"I-what? No." He deadpanned "You can barely control that thing, I'm not-"

"Practice makes the master."

"It's dangerous."

"Well, I have Mr. 'God of Death' on my side, I think I'll manage."

"It doesn't work like that-"

Before he could keep arguing with him, the older one left, a determined look on his face. Harry had yet to voice out his concern, but he found alarming that he would more often than not lose any arguments to the genius, that is, unless the male exited the room, putting an end to the conversation, which, technically also meant that they would be doing so anyways.

Had he lost his edge? Because being unable to win arguments was the most un-Slytherin thing he could ever do -that is, besides the stone fiasco, but he considered that to be mostly the adults' fault- and he couldn't help but to feel actually bothered.

He waited for the man, knowing that he would come back shortly, after all, the suit was mostly done, they had just needed to test the repulsors, but that was about it for the moment. He had known, deep down, that Tony would want to try out the whole thing right away, but he had tried to keep the idea out of his head, for he was a bit terrified of anything going wrong. Hell, even he wasn't all powerful if the circumstances came down to it.

The sound of heavy, metallic steps drew his attention to the entrance of the garage, where he saw the so called 'Mark II'. A shiver went down his spine, wondering just what muggles could've done to wizards had they been discovered and should they have these type of things on their side.

"Here, I connected this wireless earphone to Jarvis so that I can keep you updated." He handed him an earbud, which he put on right away, hearing it start up as he did so. "Ready to take this baby for a ride?"

"I'm just tagging along, Stark" He raised an eyebrow, but the man didn't seem to pay him much attention as he activated the repulsors again. He took that as a sign to open up his wings, ruffling them slightly and infusing magic into them, making them visible for the first time in years. "Did you do the background check-ups?" At the lack of response, he turned at the man, but he couldn't really see his face, so he couldn't even know what has happened. "...Tony?"

"Of course. Let's try to see how much faster the suit is against an angel." Harry's cheeks lit up red, but he frowned.

"First of all, I'm not an angel; second of all, do you really think the suit is faster than me?"

"Totally."

"I find that kind of offensive."

"Facts are facts, angel, nothing you can do against the truth."

"Oh, you're on. Don't cry when I beat your toy."

As one, they both lifted from the ground, the papers that were already scattered everywhere flying into the air from the force of both repulsors and the flap of his wings. They were out in no time and, truly, Harry couldn't really remember the last time that he flew for the heck of it instead of a mere method of transport. He had almost forgotten how...carefree it felt, the rush in his veins as adrenaline pumped fast through them.

He pushed himself to the limit, hearing his heart in his ears as he tried to keep up with the other's rocket-like speed. His magic hummed wildly, but it only helped him go faster...yet, it wasn't difficult to see that the suit was quicker than him. Tony seemed to have forgotten any sense of competition, too invested in what was happening to care if he was or not winning.

He heard the laughter through the earbud, which JARVIS had been kind enough to volume down as to not bust his hearing. It almost reminded him of his first time on a broom, the thrill that sung in his body, the sense of being invincible, he could imagine all the things that went through the man's head…

"Jarvis? What's SR-71's record?"

Or maybe not.

"Damn it, Stark!" He shouted as he let himself drop into the shadows so he could teleport closer to him. As soon as he did, he pushed more his magic through his wings, making them glow faintly while flapping them. The corners of his vision blurred as he watched Tony go higher and higher, closer to the moon and further from what he could reach.

And then he watched him fall. He could barely hear a scream and then garbled noises that he couldn't quite make up the meaning of.

 _I won't make it in time. I'll fail. I'm trying. I can't. He'll die. No, not again. Notagainnotagainnotagainnotagainnotagainnotagain._

He wasn't sure how, his memories felt messy, but one second he was miles from Tony and one later he was right below him thrusting his arms forward, a wave of raw magic ejecting from his palms, his veins lighting up with energy and smoke sizzling from his skin.

He heard something crack above him, probably the suit, he didn't know. The light was filtering out of his vision and the air cut through his ears. Was he...falling? Every nerve of his body was on fire, almost as if needles pierce through each and every one of them. He heard his name being called, but he couldn't focus in anything except for the pain and the emptiness that he felt inside.

"H-help-" He managed to whisper out. Something flashed in the darkness. He felt cold press against his sides and he tried to struggle. He couldn't breathe. He felt tears pool in his eyes as images flashed in his eyes.

Black cloaks, floating through the air like monsters from nightmares.

Blank stares, looking back at him with hate and remorse.

Mocking laughs, mad cackles and a sense of despair.

Screams, someone stood in front of him, but he didn't understand what it screamed, only that it made him very sad.

A green flash and the guilt that consumed him when he thought of it.

A blue flash.

"Harry! Thank-can you hear me?" Blue...Blue slits.

"Tony?" He mumbled. His vision slowly bled with color, it was mainly silver.

"Holy-brat, you're-" He could hear the shock even through the earbud.

"I-are you alright?"

"Am I-You blacked out mid-flight and you ask _me_ if I'm alright?!"

"I...did?"

"Yes, you had to play hero and- _fuck-_ I had everything under control!"

He could feel the strength seeping out of him with every heartbeat. He felt cold arms around him, it didn't take a genius to know that the man had held onto him to prevent him from falling. He felt his eyes sting with tears, but he still felt...like himself...at least, he thought so.

"But...you didn't, you were falling…" He whispered weakly.

"I had things in store in case something like that happened. We designed it to!"

"...You said I was to-"

"I know what I said-just...just don't talk." He felt their position shift from horizontal to vertical. "I'll need your help with the landing."

He didn't protest, instead stretching his wings once more, feeling them sore and no longer visible to the naked eye. He flapped them, but the older one didn't let go of him nor did he deactivate the repulsors in one go, instead making it a periodic process.

The taller one was the first to land, the metal ringing loudly as his armoured feet came in contact with the floor. As soon as his feet touched ground, he leaned against the other, breathing heavily. He felt a shift as something unclasped above him, presumably the mask.

"Look, Harry-I know that I said I had you to help me or whatever, but I didn't mean for you to actually risk your life in doing so."

"I don't mind, wouldn't be the first time I did it." He said with a tired smile.

"But I _do._ I don't care what life you led up until now, but I don't want you to do stupid things like that."

"Saving someone isn't stupid, you jerk, what are you even making that suit for?"

"To do so _without_ risking my own life!"

Harry had no comeback, no witty response or snapping argument. He was still surprised, after all, it was the first time that someone discouraged him from helping since his school days. And even then, the attempts of making him less suicidal had stopped around fourth year in that cursed castle that ruined his entire existence.

"I know you have these thoughts of being a god, you think you're invincible and whatnot, but please-" The younger one was shocked at hearing the p-word coming from him "-promise me that you won't do it again."

"...Okay...okay, you win. I won't risk my life stupidly again."

Both knew that it was a sour lie.

 **A/N:**

 **I...honestly wasn't expecting this chapter to turn out like it did. I just let myself write yesterday night and...well, I couldn't think of how to change it, so here it is? Hope you liked it (Ugh, too many 'it's)...anyways, I'm off to writing the next chapter!**


	14. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

 **Useless**

 _He opened his eyes and scanned his surroundings. His stomach sunk as he recognised where he was, with tall walls and never-ending halls. Hogwarts, the place where everything he was was broken, molded and rebuilt again and again until nothing of him was left._

 _A small part of him remembered he had destroyed this place. A larger one was occupied trying to not freak out, trying to keep his cool, repeating to himself that this was a dream._

" _...Why am I here?" He whispered to himself, pressing a hand to his forehead as an all too familiar pain made itself present._

"' _Why' indeed..." He turned around, expecting to see someone but meeting… nothing. A cold air blew, his fists clenched. He knew that voice from somewhere, but it was a long time since he had last heard it that he couldn't be too sure. Still, the pain of his scar led his thoughts to the lord that he had once defeated._

" _I killed you...you can't be real."_

" _You're weak, how would you even kill_ _ **me**_ _?" A cackle bounced off the walls "So useless, how did you even defeat Voldemort? How did you_ _ **kill**_ _anyone?" The air became colder and colder until it was freezing and he was unable to pull any into his lungs. He witnessed as the magic pooled in the center of the hall "You aren't even a tenth of what you used to be. You used to be stronger, powerful, a force to be reckoned with. You could've done anything, you could've gotten revenge...but no, you had to become this...pathetic_ _ **shell**_ _." It snarled "Letting everyone step over you, I mean, couldn't you be even more pitiful?"_

" _Shut up." He said, lacking the conviction to actually mean it._

" _Oh, did you say something? I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you over the_ _ **screams**_ _of everyone you failed. The_ _ **wheeps**_ _of the people you let die." The magic moved, almost forming a body of sorts as it circled him "Face it, Harry Potter, you're a coward. Where's the slytherin that you liked to strut so much in your prime? The pride and power with which you lead an entire army?"_

" _It wasn't just me..."_

" _Keep lying to yourself. You were the reason it worked. You were the perfect leader! Brave, smart, sly, charismatic. Why did you let go of your roots? Why did you decide that it was better being a mindless gryffindor? You're a sheep, your purpose is only a reckless existence...where is that unbreakable resolve? I mean...if Lily and James could see you now, they'd be so_ _ **disappointed**_ _."_

" _Please...just...shut up."_

" _Some god of death you are...I forgot, you couldn't even do_ _ **that**_ _right, could you? You're so busy moping around that you can't concentrate and gain that divinity. The only reason you have the title is because your predecessor couldn't keep his own death at bay..."_

" _I did my best!"_

" _ **You did not.**_ _And because of you, everyone died. And you know that it's not just those 'classmates' of yours. All of those mortals who you tried to take care of...dead, each and every one of them, gone."_

" _Stop...stop, please..."_

" _You want me to stop?" He nodded, desperately, his hands pressed against his ears. "Then do something about it, you useless brat."_

 _Finally, the pool of magic formed a solid body, but all he could see was himself, staring like a mirror yet not quite. The black hair was there, but it was messily cut shoulder length and held in a pony tail. The eyes, while the same shade, seemed brighter, not due to his powers but because of something else that lurked in those avada kedavra-colored abysses._

 _And his voice was so...different. It was filled with stubborn confidence and strength._

" _...But the truth is, Potter." It was strange, hearing those words coming from the doppelganger "That you can't." It pushed him and he fell._

 _But he didn't hit the floor, he kept falling and falling, undeterred by any solid structure. He felt his own magic seep out of his pores into the air, making it unbreathable. He tried to gasp, but he couldn't._

His eyes snapped open once more, a scream caught in the back on his throat. He drew in a deep breath, hands pressing against his forehead as he sat up on the sofa. He looked around him before he stood up, which was no easy task when his whole body shivered and his vision was obscured by the tears that threatened to spill, and went for the door. He heard a non-corporeal voice that made him stop in his tracks, fear filling him as he thought that, maybe, he had yet to escape that nightmare.

"Sir, may I inquire where you're going?" He sighed, trying to calm down his racing heart as he reconned who it was.

"I'm just going outside for a while, Jarvis."

"Should I tell Tony?"

"...No, let him sleep, I'll be back later anyways. Do send me a message if he is about to leave, will you?"

Without much delay, he left, willing his cloak into existence and draping it over himself with the silver side up to protect himself from the cold of the early morning. He melted into the shadows only to reappear a few seconds later down on the beach that the mansion had a view of. He was startled, however, when another figure materialized itself from the darkness.

He might've attacked if he hadn't seen the black wings, smaller than his own yet bigger than normal, a clear giveaway that this one had to be an archangel. He had golden hair, more importantly, he had dark green eyes that, had he not known better, might've passed for black. He immediately knew who it was, seeing as it was the one angel that he spent the most time with.

"My Lord-"

"What are you doing here, Gabriel?"

"...There is a problem…"

"Another one? Can't you ever come to me with good news?" He mumbled and shook his head "What is it?"

"Lady Skuld, she knows that you cut the lines." He froze his pacing and turned around in barely a second.

"What? How?"

"W-we don't know, my lord, but she came seeking for you. When she didn't find you, she left a message."

He bit his lip. He could always not listen to the message, but it'd be dumb not to do so, after all, she already knew it had been him and could probably track Tony down, it would be a piece of cake considering that the male was very famous. Either way, he was in trouble. Could he really face off against an asgardian of all things?

"Sir, you're mumbling…" Emerald eyes snapped up at dark green, making the angel stumble back

"The name, Gabriel."

"Right, I apologize, Harry."

"Tell me her message."

"She told us that there would be a party tonight that Anthony Stark had to attend but, since you removed her influence, he might not; she wants you to take him and to cancel out your hiding charms."

"...Do you think I could take her on?"

"You'd be the first midgardian to actually do so...but, while we do believe that you could do it at one point, you wouldn't be able to at the moment."

"What do you mean?"

"You currently lack a big part of your power...you once were at your peak, back when you were about to die, but now...we don't think you could even graze an asgardian, not without being gifted complete divinity."

"Huh...so I really am nothing now…"

"Don't say that, my lord, mortals very much need you to keep balance."

"Yeah, right, I can see how balanced the world is with me being here." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You can leave now, tell the rest that we are not to be bothered unless I directly call for someone."

"Yes, sir. Shall I warn Lady Hecate?"

"I'm sure she already knows. Do tell her to not intervene either if you can."

"Right away."

He heard the crunch of the sand as the angel walked back to the darker part of the cliff until he disappeared. He sighed and sat down, staring at the waves silently, listening to the calming lull of nature.

He had once gotten used to the nightmares, but he had gone for many years without them, his life dulled by the monotony of his job. Now that he was starting to become more active, he could feel the change. He felt his magic become more and more restless, unable to keep to itself as it yearned for...well, he wasn't sure what it wanted. His magic was like an animal, wild, untamed, following its instincts.

He was afraid that, one day, it'd devour him. He imagined that it did, once. Death had told him how his magic had turned against him right before he died, destroying his own body. He had felt it twice or thrice since, his skin cracking under the sheer pressure of the monster that lurked in his body. He had died once, what would happen if it killed him once more?

He stayed outside for a hours, he lost track of time far too quickly to care. He only knew that the sky had gone through purples, violets, magentas, blues and reds. He traced his fingers along the sand mindlessly, creating circles and spirals, straight lines and diagonals. Sometimes, he caught himself before he could complete a rune, but other times he had to create small bursts of magic to disrupt one he had unconsciously finished.

It was only when he felt something buzz in his pocket that he broke his trance. He took out his cellphone, a gift from Tony after they managed to magic-proof it. He unlocked the screen and went to his messages. To his surprise, it wasn't from Jarvis, but rather from the genius who owned the A.I.

-Hey, angel boy, done brooding?-

He frowned, about to type something in response before another message came in. It seemed like someone was...excited?

-Nevermind that, want to go out for taiwanese?-

-You're going to die from all the fats that you eat.-

-I didn't hear a no.-

-I don't believe I said one?-

-Great. Meet me at the door in ten.-

Harry rolled his eyes and stood up, brushing the grains from his legs and stretching lazily. He would've used the shadows to go up, but he decided to take the scenic route, walking calmly through the sand path that led to the mansion, after all, he had time and he was pretty sure that Tony wouldn't hold it against him if he took it slow.

He used the walk to clear his head a little from the worry and to formulate how he'd bring up the idea to Tony. He...wasn't really sure that he could convince him, up until now, everything had been futile, but it didn't hurt to try.

Once he was on top of the cliff, he noticed that he might've been off by five minutes or so, if the questioning look that the genius gave him was any indication, but he didn't seem bothered at all, merely signaling to get in the car. The ride was short, but it was obvious that the Stark was avoiding the public eye, for the restaurant was almost completely empty.

They were led to a rather secluded table, where they were handed two menus. They quietly ordered something to eat and waited, although Harry took the chance and asked for a bubble tea. He had tried one of those when he was first in Taiwan a couple of years ago and he had found it to have an interesting flavour.

"So-" Tony started, startling the younger one "-truth to be told, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"What about?" He mumbled, crossing his arms and leaning back on his chair.

"Have you ever considered using armour when flying or something?"

"Can't say I haven't." And it wasn't a lie, Death had told him that the position of god of death also came with many things, one of them was an armour that once belonged to one of Death's incarnations, Hades, but he had been unable to wield it as of yet. "I dropped the idea, though, I'm not flying around getting into battles as often as you might think."

"It makes things easier then." He clasped his hands together in delight "What do you say I make you one? It might take a couple of hours or so, but it shouldn't be as long as with the suit."

"I-really?" He asked, barely managing to conceal his curiosity "What would I even use that for?"

"You never know when you might need it, it's just an idea I had in the shower."

Tony shrugged, but he acquired the glint of determination that Harry had seen in his eyes while building the Mark II. He gave a sip to his tea and watched as he typed something on his cellphone, presumably notes for later. He felt a chill run up his spine, actually worried with what the male could come up with. He could get very crazy and creative when he put his mind to it.

"Do you want to go to a party?" He said without really thinking. The look he got in return made him feel embarrassed as his brain caught up to what had just escaped his lips. He didn't have time to correct his mistake when his question was answered with another question.

"Does it have anything to do with the one tonight that I wasn't invited to?"

"I-uh-" He blinked, confused "I think so?"

"You don't sound very sure."

"Because I'm not." He took a deep breath and took to explaining part of what the angel had told him. "Lady Fate figured out that I was hiding you and, unless you go to the party tonight, we might be in trouble. Like, big trouble. Planet-sized trouble."

"No need to explain so much, I was debating wether to go anyways."

"You...were?"

"Heard it on the news this morning. I was going to ignore it, but you seem worried, so it must be something big."

"So that's a yes?"

"Did you hear me say no?"

Tony smirked with hidden mirth. He smiled back with relief.


	15. Chapter 12

**Chapter twelve**

 **A new glimpse.**

Harry looked at himself in a mirror, making sure that his tie was set right and that the suit, that he had transfigured, fit properly. Tony had also recommended him to put up his hair, which he had been planning to do anyways since it gave him a more clean and serious look. If you weren't close, gods could be very judging of one's appearance, then again, it heavily depended on how close to tradition they had decided to stay...

"I'm starting to have second thoughts about this." He whispered to himself as he watched the male appear on the edge of the mirror, rising an eyebrow.

"Didn't you say that the world was screwed if we didn't do this?"

"Well, the world has done little for me, so it can suck it." He said, huffing and running a hand through his hair, about to ruffle it slightly out of habit, only to have it slapped away by the man

"Your hair's already a mess, don't make it worse."

"Gee, thanks…"

"What's the plan then?"

"Easy, I go looking for her, you don't speak to any black haired, black eyed women while I do."

"Sounds unfairingly boring and plain."

"Do you have a better idea?"

"Actually, I do." He said, almost as if he had been waiting for that question the whole evening.

"...What is it, then?" He asked warily.

"You could call every other 'god' you know and get this over with."

"Yeah...kind of difficult nowadays..."

"What? Is the gang all the way to China? I'm sure they can make it on time."

"More like 'not even if they all decided to band up together would they be able to put up a challenge.'"

"...And you doing so alone is better because…?"

He made as if he didn't hear the question...mostly because it sounded more stupid when it was said out loud. Instead, he let out a deep sigh and brushed his hair out of his face before pulling it into a ponytail. He dropped his hands to his side and looked up at him from the corner of his eye.

"Just stay out of her way, okay?"

"I can't make promises, angel boy."

"Stop calling me that, it's embarrassing..."

"Then it means it's working, let's go, we have a party to crash."

The young pseudo god glared before making his way to the car, preparing himself mentally for what was about to come. Truth to be told, the idea of a crowd unnerved him, it had been a very long time since the last time that he had stood in front of many people yet, despite knowing that they would mostly be focusing on the Stark, he still felt nervous.

Needless to say, the ride felt far too short for him.

He had pulled his invisible influence away from Tony as per Skuld's request, but he cast a small Notice-Me-Not charm on himself in order to keep no-majs from seeing him unless he attracted attention to himself on purpose.

Even then, it took him every ounce of will not to squirm when he heard and saw the flashes of the cameras, which should be able to capture him since technology had that annoying tendency to see through magic. It would be a matter of time before his current protection was seen through. Instead of waiting for that, though, he pulled the Stark along. He noticed, from the corner of his eye, that Tony smiled innocently at someone in the crowd, but he was too busy trying to regulate his breathing to figure out who it was.

"You look like you're waiting for someone to jump at you, relax a little."

"Easy for you to say." He hissed.

"True." Tony shrugged before he led him to the bar "Hey, I'll get you something, maybe it'll help." Harry shifted and eyed the beverages behind the counter.

"Ah...I'll have to decline. Alcohol and I don't make for a great combination." He said while giving him a small, nervous smile.

"Now you've got me interested-"

"Believe me, you shouldn't be."

He smirked before he turned to the bartender. "Two Scotches."

"Tony! Don't listen to him, just one for him."

"Mr. Stark?" The interruption made the genius glance at the younger one before looking at the source.

"Can I help you with something?"

"I'm Agent Coulson."

"Oh, yeah, from the..."

While they spoke, Harry looked away, letting his eyes change into a golden color. He gasped lightly when the world lit up with lines that floated in the air, unaffected by the people that filled the room. He knew that this event was important for Skuld, but he hadn't imagined to what extent it was. Apparently, it was a big turning point. Some lines floated unattached, but their ends looked almost burned off. He reconned that those used to belong to Tony before he tore them apart.

He was so marvelled and disgusted by the sight that he didn't take heed of the concerned look that had been directed at him by the genius. His focus was only on the lights that only he and that woman he hated and feared could see and it was difficult to merely think of tearing his eyes from it.

Then he saw her.

She stood relaxed, more towards the center of the room. He saw blond hair and green eyes that were darker than his own, but he knew, thanks to the energy that currently flowed through his retinas, that it was merely magic that helped her disguise her unusual features from the world.

She looked right at him and smiled. It was one he knew all too well, for it was predatory, one of those that let you know that you would be one upped for sure. A part of him stirred, remembering that he once had a smile like that, a simple gesture that became a weapon when wielded correctly.

And wield it she did. It made him freeze before he could even stand up. It made every fiber of his being be filled with doubt, made him forget that he wasn't truly powerless. It was like going way back to fake smiles and manipulations, before he was able to truly stand up for himself. A time where he wasn't Harrison James Potter, heir to Death but just Harry, the outcast and boy-who-lived-to-turned-dark.

Then, it all faded into background noise. He walked towards her, a smile on his own face as he stopped, bowing elegantly and offering his hand to her. From a distance, Tony watched the exchange, noticing that something was...off about his companion. His attention didn't hold for long, for he was distracted by a certain redhead who also stood in the midst of the crowd.

"A dance, Lady Skuld?" The emerald eyed male asked in a cold voice.

She looked taken aback for a second before she regained her composure. Instead of deigning to answer, she merely took his hand. To others, it'd look somewhat comical since she was considerably taller than him, specially whilst wearing heels, but something else was at play rather than petty social standards…

"I have done what you asked of me."

"I knew you were smart, good boy." She said as if she was talking to a dog. He didn't react.

"I must say, I didn't expect you to come here in person."

"This is an important event, heir to death, I must make sure things fall into place and you are making this more difficult than they should be."

"I'm only doing my job."

"You aren't a god, mortal" She said with a hint of disgust. "You failed to achieve that state completely; this is not 'your job', you only fool yourself in order to believe so."

"Madam, while I won't deny that what you say is true, I must warn you that you are gravely underestimating us."

A gust of wind picked up inside the room. Since the entrance doors were wide open, people just shrugged it off, but the goddess of destiny knew far too well what it was. It was a threat, infused with magic that stung painfully and, if there was something mortals shouldn't do, it was tempting fate. Her face twisted into an angered expression.

"How dare you-"

"Oh? You're angry?." He looked at her with his golden eyes "You stole from Death, if anything, it should be us who asked that question." She huffed.

"I don't know how this concerns you, you weren't even born when I chose what souls to take"

"You're right." He agreed, making her startle once more "But it's still my duty to protect them from you. They gained the right of passage into a calm eternity, this is an injustice I won't stand by."

"The fates must go on, midgardian."

"Au contraire, asgardian." He was nothing like the meek godling that she had met a long time ago. Neither was he anything like the failed-attempt of a god she had seen throughout the years. "The fates are meant to be challenged, humans should move forward despite the obstacles that you decide to put for them..." And if all he had said until now could be considered disrespect, what he said next was the cherry on top of the cake. "I'll go straight to the point and I'll warn you just this once. Mess with the souls, try to create a future for your twisted pleasure, and I'll personally break all of your lines before going for you."

"...We'll see who goes for whom, Harry James Potter."

Their steps were light, elegant, practiced with unnatural grace that only divine beings possessed, a quality that had never fully fit him. Yet, as they parted, quickly getting lost in the crowd of dancing people, Skuld couldn't stop thinking how...appropriate it seemed for the scion of Death.

A grin of pleasure spread on his face as he made his way back to the bar only to frown delicately when he arrived, noticing that Tony had left. He turned to look at the crowd, but, if he was there, then it'd be nearly impossible to find him. He merely sighed and leaned against a wall, searching for the male with a bored look.

He resisted the urge to jump as he heard his name being called, blinking confusedly and directing his partial attention at the male who, he remembered, had spoken with the genius before.

"Lord Potter?" Harry nodded, trying to catch onto his surroundings once more.

"I-er-yes...how do you know that name?"

"I'm from the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division"

He stayed silent for a couple seconds. The name was familiar, he had heard it before but not continuously enough for it to be easily recognisable. It wasn't until he paid close attention to the acronym that it formed that a memory snapped into place.

"SHIELD?" He asked, voice acquiring a new edge to it that hadn't been there before despite how lost he felt. He discreetly tried to move away. "I thought I said I didn't want anything to do with you, people."

"Actually, we only wanted to ask you some questions."

"Regarding?"

"Mr. Stark's incident."

"Please, you're telling me that you don't have all the information? You should know better than to lie to me." He mumbled, frowning. They both stared at each other before the older one nodded slowly.

"I will come by Mr. Stark's residence on the 24th at seven."

"Are we really doing this?...You know what? Fine, I don't have time to mess around right now, I'll be there."

He grunted and pushed himself off the counter, having seen, thanks to his golden gaze, a hint of a blessed soul. He tried to ignore the lines that seemed to be becoming a lot more tense, unknowing of its meaning. His vision blurred and the edges seemed to become darker. He stumbled, trying hard to regain his balance as images flashed in front of his eyes looking murky.

People running very fast, gunshots, the sound of some kind of laser. Then he felt heat, hearing voices that didn't seem to be directed at him, a hand reaching out to him. Everything was blinking fastly, not letting him see anything clearly. A bright glow of blue, calming, alluring. Green and gold, a sharp pain in his chest.

He gasped, holding his head as he tried to make sense as to what was being shown to him. He could still hear someone calling, but he could barely make out that that person was actually speaking to him this time. He gently tried to push himself backwards, but his head pounded annoyingly, making it nearly impossible to concentrate.

He was pulled to his feet, hearing flashes go off once more, but he didn't have the energy to try and repel the visual attack, merely trying to hide behind the person who was holding him up. His eyes tinted themselves in gold, barely having the ability to notice the brightness of a beautiful soul.

"Fainting? My, one of the oldest tricks in the book…" The voice echoed painfully in his head "Who would've known that it could prevent me from doing my bidding...well played, fake god. Well played." Black eyes glared from the crowd, going unnoticed even by the male who was helping him walk. "Beware, for you've made yourself an enemy that you can't go up against."

She walked away from the building and grinned, remembering the fire that burned in his eyes, untamable. An unbreakable resolve that had been long lost from his soul, but there was something else, something that lurked behind the bravery and chivalry. Something that was both dark and interesting to her.

At last, something would be able to clench her boredom. Unfortunately, although she wouldn't know it for a long time, that didn't mean it was a good thing for her.

 **I...was honestly expecting the chapter to be a bit different and I don't even know how it ended up like this, but meh, I liked it, so I hope you guys do too! I have to catch a plane and whatnot, but I will try to be a bit faster writing! (Holy jesus, only seventeen days until this story's anniversary!)**


	16. Chapter 13

**Chapter thirteen**

 **Inner storm**

He groaned and opened his eyes, lifting his arm tiredly to block the sun that blinded him with a vengeance. He was getting awfully used to the sight of a ceiling and the feeling of loss and confusion, but that didn't mean that he liked it at all. He sat up, feeling dizzy right away and waiting for the darkness on the edges of his eyes to disappear.

He stood up, noticing that the suit that he had transfigured had gone back to its original, trench coat form. He stretched, his bones snapping back into their place. Harry felt a dull pain on his neck, which wasn't a surprise since he had been on the sofa. His head felt cloudy, he couldn't concentrate completely…

"Can we make up a secret code that means 'hey, I'm about to freak out and/or blackout'? I think I've had enough near-heart attacks for a lifetime."

He glared openly at the genius, who looked at him with an unimpressed stare that had faded bags under his eyes. Instead of starting something, the male set down a mug with coffee in front of him and took a sip from his own.

"No need to fight this early in the morning. Think you can walk up and down stairs?"

"I mean, I won't die from it. Workshop?" He asked, grabbing the cup's handle and looking down at it, noticing the lighter color, before drinking, tasting that the other had put sugar and nodding to himself with satisfaction.

"Yeah, while you were out I decided to start working on a design for your armour, care to humour me, angel boy?"

Harry shrugged and started walking towards the other's working station. As he did, he looked back at the older one, who looked tense and something danced in his eyes. He was too far away to tell what it was, but it couldn't be good for his health. Only because of that did he not reprimand him for pulling an obvious all-nighter, it helped the man burn some tension out of his system.

The Mark III armour stood on display, which had been painted with a not-too-discreet golden and red. He guessed that the other had been working on it was well, because there were papers all over the floor, probably due to the strength of the repulsors. He saw the genius poke at the holographic screen, making a couple of blueprints to what looked more like another suit more than protection with the obvious technologic enhances.

"I'd have to take a look at your wings again, but this is one of the main ideas. I was thinking of using an aluminium alloy. It could also use the one on the Mark III, but I think it might be too heavy to carry around completely on your own should the system suddenly shut down like it did with mine." He pointed at the plated top of the wings, which seemed to be capable of covering the bones of his wings should they materialize. He couldn't bring himself to feel completely invested and Tony seemed to notice right away. "I was thinking of finding a way for magic to be the source of energy, but i'd have to do some tests with the arc reactor first...are you...feeling alright?"

He breathed in nervously and shook his head "I...I think I might've messed up." It was to his surprise that the man didn't immediately speak a sarcastic 'I told you so' and instead frowned with concern.

"Why do you say that?"

"...I...can't remember what she said, but Skuld looked anything but happy." He bit his lip and frowned in concentration before he rubbed his eyes with annoyance.

"Oh, you mean when you walked off into the crowd to meet her?" He quickly regretted asking the question as worry flashed again in the other's emerald eyes.

"Did I?" He spoke, sounding actually _scared_. "I can't-I mean-god I-Tony, I can't remember doing-"

Suddenly, it felt for Harry as if the world faded into the background. A loud noise rung in his ears and his heart raced, making his chest ache. He had fucked up. He had utterly fucked everything up. He couldn't even call any memories of the action to his mind and he expected himself to actually stand against an asgardian? God, he really was _useless_. He couldn't protect the souls that had been stolen. They'd be at fate's mercy because he was weak. His magic was out of his control. He was bound to hurt more than to be of any use.

He couldn't breathe and, although he knew he had to, he needed to, he couldn't force his body to intake precious air. He stumbled, images quickly flashing in succession in front of his eyes, but this time he couldn't even focus on them, only seeing blurriness and feeling hopeless. He had always been, no matter how many times he tried to prove otherwise. _Everyone had died. Everyone had disappeared. It was his fault that he was alone._

Tony had noticed the symptoms right away. The nervous sweating, the cutting off of his own words and the sudden gasping as if he was being choked by an invisible force along with the darkening of the other's already tired eyes. He deactivated the holographic representation of the armour and searched in his head for what he remembered the doctor mentioning back at the hospital. He took a deep breath, knowing, in part, what was setting off the other's panic attack.

"You, um, don't worry? You are going to be fine, remember what the doctor said? Ugh, stupid question, uh, you might forget stuff, but it's not the end of the world." Things weren't looking any better, why wasn't he calming down quicker? He didn't work well in this type of situations! "You are safe right now, she can't get to us, no goddess of fate will come knocking onto the door."

He placed a hand on the other's shoulder as he had seen people do in movies, but it only seemed to make it worse, for the male lashed out, looking without seeing and breathing in short, quick gasps. There was a loud crash, but the younger one seemed unaware of the feeling of scorching hot coffee on his skin. Instead, his body seemed do blurry, almost as if it was being looked through an unfocused lense.

Tony nearly lost it there and then, but he forced himself to breathe in to try and keep calm. Panicking wouldn't help the wizard. He could see that the tendrils of magic were starting to reach out from the other's chest as Harry held his head and slowly but surely curled up, so he decided to act fast.

"No, no. Breathe, in and out. It was me, Tony, sorry I startled you." He tried not to sound frustrated, he really did. "Look around you, it's only you and me. It's okay, you'll be okay, it's just temporary." He tried to recite every sentence that he could remember from both speaking to the medic and from the internet. Luckily, it did seem like he could listen, because the other's eyes were searching despite being unable to focus completely. It broke his heart to see crystal clear tears run down his cheeks, though. "Good, yeah. I'm going to help you to the bathroom to treat the burn, alright? Can't be too bad, but better safe than sorry…"

There was a quick, jerky nod on the other's part. It did take him a bit longer than usual to get the other back onto his feet, caught off guard by a death grip onto his wrist. He didn't know what else to say other than reassure him that he was safe. By now he was sure that he had to get professional help if he really intended for the other to stay around, but the thought was pushed back until further notice and he proceeded to carefully help him to the bathroom.

He set him down onto the closed toilet and immediately checked the burnt area, ripping through worn pants to look at the other's leg. Luckily, it only had reddened slightly, but he still put a towel under the sink, letting it soak in cold water before he wrapped around said place. The action and subsequent pain caused Harry to gasp and wince, he felt the other's hand on his shoulder, preventing from a further disconnection to reality due to his fear, though it was still hard to completely concentrate.

It took him forever to actually calm down, his shoulders still shaking with the tears that fell from his lighter eyes. He could no longer hear the male whispering, but he did see him still standing watch, shifting nervously and anxiously, hoping that he'd recover soon from the senseless state he had been drowned in.

"You... feeling better now?" There was a certain edge to the words, was it pity? Wariness? The young pseudo-god didn't dare look up, casting his eyes to his hands, which he could barely see in between the tears. He didn't want to see just how disappointed Tony was, how he would judge him from behind a know-it-all stare. "At least try to answer?" He bobbed his head up and down almost too lightly, but the genius caught onto the gesture right away, giving a relieved smile. "That's good, that's good. See? This is why we need the code...think you mind telling me exactly what prompted the attack?"

"You're not a Doctor…" He whispered, but he was too tired to even sound snarky or defensive.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I ask in case I need to avoid the whole subject again." He could see the male visibly hesitate, but Tony knew this was something sensitive and, even when he wanted to just force the truth out of him, it'd probably trigger another episode and he wasn't going through something like that anytime soon.

"I just felt bad, alright?"

"Yeah, I sort of noticed. Mind being more specific?"

"I don't know, not remembering made me feel…" He looked apprehensive as he whispered the last word, so low that he couldn't actually hear it.

"Say that again? I didn't quite catch it." He saw hands tighten into fists as Harry quickly became both further frustrated and embarrassed.

"It made me feel weak, Stark." There was a moment when neither of them spoke and the last word seemed to ring in Tony's ears.

"I...sorry, weak?" The pseudo god would be amused by the confused stare had he not felt as annoyed and emotionally exhausted as he was. "You transported us from England to Afghanistan in less than a second and I'm pretty sure you even manipulated everybody's memories on the way to the base, you'd be one of the last people who I'd consider 'weak'."

"Any wizard could have done things like that, Tony." The attempt to try and cheer him up didn't go unnoticed, though.

"Can they become invisible? Can they fly? Surely-"

"Yes and yes. I know it looks like I'm able to do awesome things, but everybody I knew could do the things I have! As a matter of fact, I'm far more incompetent than before, I can't do half of my spells without them freaking blowing up on my face. I'm a walking mass of energy that explodes every now and then, but that's about it." He felt as if there was some sort of compulsion charm that was pushing him to speak, because once he started he found it impossible to shut up. "And then there are these random images that are appearing in my head and the nightmares and I'm just so sick of everything!" He snapped as he stood up, wobbling slightly as pain flared on his leg; the older one immediately pushed him down, much to his shock.

"You're being irrational and not making sense. Sit down and try to calm down a little." He placed a hand on his shoulder. "And explain what you mean with 'images' when you do."

As he reluctantly went along with the other's instructions, he realized just how much he had let slide in his distress. Instead of panicking once more, he smiled. It was tense and tasted bittersweet, leaving a bad aftertaste for both him and the male in front of him.

"Images?" Needless to say, Tony wasn't very amused. "Yeah...yeah, you're right, sorry. I-they don't have long. And they aren't memories either, they feel...different. I wouldn't know how to explain them in a way that makes sense…They just flash, even when my eyes are closed." A voice rung into their ears.

"Sir, there is someone at the door." The genius glared at the ceiling.

"Tell whoever it is to come back later, I'm busy."

"She says that it's pertinent to your current situation." Harry's eyes turned golden as he looked at the general direction where he knew the door was. His eyes widened ever so slightly.

"...Hecate? Tony, let her in." His voice was harder, colder. His eyes didn't shine like good or amber this time, but it was darker, almost orange or brown. The name felt oddly familiar and it didn't take the male much to realize that it probably was a goddess of some sort.

"You heard him, Jarvis, tell her to come inside, we'll meet her upstairs." He then lowered his voice. "Should I have to worry?"

"She's here for a reason. She knows...she must know about what is happening."

This time, the Stark didn't stop him as he stood up, the shorter one walking a little distance ahead of him. He wasn't sure what was going through the wizard's head, but he knew that it couldn't be good. He couldn't see the tendrils of wild energy this time, but there was a buzz in the air that unnerved him, making him know just one thing.

That he was downright pissed off.

They walked to the living room, where a person was waiting for them. If he was being honest, he wondered if the black hair and surreal colored eyes was a thing, because the woman looked at them with a violet stare and a serious yet greeting smile. On the other hand, Harry had yet to let his eyes back into their emerald form and she seemed to quickly take note on that, although her careless attitude let both males know that she didn't consider them a threat.

"Good morning, Mr. Stark, it's a pleasure to finally make acquaintance with the one that has all of the current Death's attention." She said in a silky and slightly hypnotic voice as she stretched her hand, which he met albeit warily.

"Are all gods this boring at clothing or is it just the two of you?" He noticed that Harry didn't bother to chastise him, either he was too angry to care or he knew it was true, because seriously, a pair of jeans and a plain black shirt didn't seem very godlike. At least Harry's trench coat gave him a sort of mysterious air.

"Oh, my…" She gave a soft laugh "I assure you, we just all have bad taste." She turned to the younger one, nodding her head and seemingly about to speak before she was interrupted.

"What did you do this time?"

"First, you have to understand-" She started and something dangerous flashed in the golden eyes. "-we didn't expect it to actually backfire at first. We hoped that it'd be more helpful than harmful and the visions were supposed to come at a later phase."

"How do you know about them?"

"Décima told us recently that you'd have them. One of your angels told me you fainted out of nowhere, so I assumed the time had come. You see, the images, although you might not believe it, are glimpses of a future."

"And you say that this is your doing..."

"Not only mine, though I did help." She admitted grimly. "I tried to persuade the rest to give me more time, I swear. I told them that your powers would come to, but they got tired, they wanted to follow the plan." Tony sighed, this was only an exchange of nonsense.

"Can we avoid the pronoun game? Who are 'they'?" He spoke up, gaining a small nod from the shorter male, who had started to wonder the same.

"The gods, of course." She quickly said, looking back at Harry. "Our kind is dying and, even if we weren't, our destiny is to either way." She lifted a hand and an orb of white light materialized, hovering just a few inches from her skin. He noticed that it was smaller and less purer than he remembered.

"Is it because I-?"

"No. No, it's not because of your feud with Skuld. You aren't in real danger either beside that which you summon by your own actions."

"But you just said that-"

"Harry. There were no midgardian gods...at least, not until you came along." She said, barely above a whisper "We were long ago banished from Asgard, our true names ripped away from us because we didn't want to be part of the bloodshed that was being spilled in our homeland. I won't lie, we want revenge, but we don't have as much power as back then. That's when you came in. At first, we wanted to dismiss you, but you were able to resist even the tides of destiny...not even us had been able to do so when caught in the lines. Then we found out just who was your predecessor."

A familiar symbol was formed by the white orb. A triangle with a circle inside, divided vertically by a single line. He frowned. He had sort of assumed that was the case, why else would Death choose him? But nobody had ever mentioned it, so the fact had gone to the back of his head.

"We decided that Death was the one who would first give you his soul to stabilize yours and then, when you became a god yourself, the rest would start to bleed theirs into yours...but it's been a decade since then."

"I won't be a part of whatever war you have with them."

"We don't want that. We wanted to create someone bigger than us, we wanted to prove Odin that he was wrong to assume that we were the higher power, that he had the right to conquer those who he believed weaker...We should've told you...But the facts are we didn't and there's nothing we can change now; either way, I wouldn't do it any different, because your soul.."

She took his hand, making her magic pulse into his body and meeting with the wild energy that his body harbored. She called it forth, he could feel it. Tony didn't need the other's eyes to know that what appeared was said soul, but it didn't look like hers, no, it's appearance made him feel sick and nauseous. He was sure it wasn't normal for souls to look like that.

Instead of pure white, it was mostly a rotten green with highlights of other colors of the rainbow and small tendrils that moved like an octopus would. There was a chunk of it that was tainted with a horrible black and it was all encased in a globe that was half golden and half orange that tried to compress it into a ball.

"Your soul was on the verge of destruction."

 **Heyo, everyone! So, not the chapter I was expecting to write, but I'm okay with it. I'll start writing the next one, but it might take a while with all the holidays and me lazing off because I'm on vacation. Hope you liked the extra long chapter! Happy holidays and new year!**


	17. Chapter 14

**Chapter fourteen**

 **Heaven-sent**

Tony was one to pay close attention to physical ques. There wasn't much of a secret behind that, one just tended to have to look for second intentions hidden in plain sight when you're a millionaire and you're hated by many. Said paranoiac tendency was only accentuated since being abducted and living under the same roof as the emotionally unstable male of emerald-currently-golden eyes. He could see the tenseness of his jaw and the slight narrowing of eyes, so he knew that something bad was bound to happen and was debating whether to do something to prevent it or just move a little out of the way.

Had he been as sensible to magic as the goddess of said aspect was, however, he would've been alarmed. She could sense the worsening on the wild fluctuations it had, more dangerous than before. It seemed to snake around Harry's body, whispering dark feelings into his ears, although she wasn't sure if he could hear it like she could.

"It's not as bad as it looks, there are methods with which we can heal it back to its original state, but not until you are able to achieve all of Death's prowess"

"How do I do that?" He whispered, voice hopeless as a pit settled into his stomach. "It's been ten years already, you said that, but I can only do very little compared to what Death was capable of."

"It is different for each and every one of us. Some obtain them through the achievement of their personal prophecies, some do after milenia of training, some after a personal realization. Many gained their true power after hearing their true name, the one that their soul was branded with, but no god knows yours, so that's out of question. I would personally recommend at least practicing more with the gifts that were given to you by your ancestor, not because it would work for a fact, but because of this black mass that is attached to your soul. I have to say, however, that the worst damage has already healed."

"The worst? How could it have been any worse? Look at it, Hecate, it's horrible!"

The magic around him spiked with his anger and the tendrils that sprouted from his soul moved slightly more agitated. The lights above them flickered on and off, but the wizard didn't notice. Tony saw, slightly alarmed, as grains of black sand started to fall from his shoulders. Hecate looked at him in the eyes and shook her head a bit, almost imperceptibly, ordering him not to say anything about it.

"You don't understand, young Harry. When I say that it was on the verge of destruction, I truly mean it. It was broken, lines running through it and fragments already on their last end before they detached. In comparison, should the gods not have started to forcefully endow you with their own power, you wouldn't be in pain. No, you are only unstable for the time being, but the darkness that latched onto your soul is spreading and you know what becomes of wizards whose souls are consumed to nothingness by said...obscurity."

"I know." He said, grimmly. His magic slowly receded back into his body and the grains faded away "And I don't want to hurt anybody else, not like that, but I'm still angry with you."

"I would be if I were you. I know that we don't get along as well as I would've liked to, but trust me when I say that I do care about you." She took her hand back, letting the illusion vanish into wisps in the air. "Had things been different, had you not needed us, you are the last person that I would've wished these things to be pushed onto."

Tony squirmed, feeling a little out of place as the goddess spoke with something other than carelessness. It was heartfelt and personal, something that was spoken directly from her soul and felt a lot like she should've said these things without him in the picture. If the unguarded look on the other male's face was any indication, he thought similarly.

"Anyways, I'd love to stay here and talk about more happy things, but I am kind of on a tight schedule because I have to deal with an annoying rock that's been acting up." She said, making the atmosphere change abruptly with her change of mood.

"A rock? Now, that's a new one." Mumbled the genius under his breath, voice dripping with sarcasm, but the goddess seemed to pick it up just as easily.

"Trust me, Mr. Stark. If you knew just how annoying these rocks are, you wouldn't be saying things like that. Dare I say, you'd pity me!"

The smile she gave them sent shivers up his spine. Before they had time to say anything else, she disappeared with the usual snap of an apparition that made Tony wonder if they had looked like they were in a whirlpool when Harry had tricked him into using it. Speaking of him, his eyes already were going back to their normal color, much to his relief.

"Man, I wonder if I can create something that is able to replicate your teleportation trick."

"If you do, please get rid of the after-apparition sickness."He mumbled and sighed with frustration. "Ugh, what freaking god did I upset in my past life to end up like this?"

"If you ask me, I'd say that it was the destiny girl."

"No duh."

"Hey, at least you now know what to do. Tell you what? Why don't we find someplace that you can practice and I can test out the Mark III a little more?"

"You just want to try it out again."

"I'm not denying that." He shrugged. "But it might help you blow off some steam, don't you think?" Harry bit the inside of his cheek and nodded slowly in agreement.

"Fine, but only if you promise not to fly too far up like last time."

"Promise." He stood up and held out his hand. Harry hesitated before he took it, being pulled up effortlessly to his feet. Tony frowned briefly as he noticed, again, that the younger one was far too light for his own good. He'd have to bring that up at a later date, right now he didn't want to push him for answers. "I'll go put the suit on, you can wait outside if you want."

"I'll go with you...You did say that you wanted to measure my wingspan, right?"

"Well, I didn't, but I'd appreciate it if we could get that out of the way for now so that JARVIS can start with the Heaven-Sent prototype."

"...We're not calling it that."

"My design, my rules, squirt."

"You're insufferable." Harry let a smirk come to his face, although it was a little timid.

"I do my best." They went to the workshop, where Tony lit up the holographic console in order to measure his wings more directly. "Say, do you know what Lady voodoo meant with 'rocks'?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. There are far too many enchanted rocks throughout the universe that it'd be difficult to know exactly what she was talking about."

"Are they that common?" He asked as he watched black wings materialize into existence, folding and stretching to the point that they touched the walls. He had yet to speak out his mind, but he thought that they were utterly beautiful with the way that light bounced against them, giving them a different color hue depending on the light of day.

"Yes, they are easy to carry around and to spell. For example, do you remember the black stone that I gave you when I had to leave back when we arrived at the states?"

"I do, you never really told me what that was for…"

"Well, it's called the Resurrection Stone and it was given to me by Death before he went back to the flux of energy, although it is pretty much useless when you can see souls like I do. I gave it to you because it's fused into my soul and magic, so I can sense it from anywhere in the world."

"You set me up with a magical tracker and didn't think of telling me?"

"Would you have given it back had I told you what it was?"

"...I mean, probably?"

"No, you wouldn't have."

"Yeah, you're right." He agreed, after all, how could he pass on the opportunity of researching magic in any form? "Keep them wide open for a moment." He said as he enlarged the screen, letting it frame the correct measurements that'd be required to build the metal plates. "How would you feel about implants?"

"What the hell, no." Harry's wings folded instinctively, almost as if protecting them from him. "What would I need implants for?"

"Well, it might be easier to set the armor directly above the bones in that case, but it's not necessary."

"...I'll think about it, but I'm not sure I want that, not even I'm certain as to how the wings work and I don't want to mess them up." They flexed again, fluttering a little.

"Fair enough."

He hummed to himself, eyes narrowing before he pinched one of the long feathers under his thumb and index finger, noticing that, albeit faintly, it had dark reds and oranges along it, almost as if they were the last rays of sunset, barely poking out through the nightly sky. Unless one was as close as he was, they wouldn't be able to notice.

"Now, fold them again. I want to see where they close in order to see where it needs to be able to retract." He watched them shift, each articulation moving accordingly until the were neatly pressed together. Tony wondered briefly how much it had taken him to be able to control them as if they were only an added extension, that is, assuming that wizards didn't have wings naturally. "One more thing, how much weight do you think they'd be able to handle?"

"I haven't found a limit as to how much they resist."

"We need to test that then."

"You speak as if I am a guinea pig."

"Now that you put it like that…" One of the wings knocked into him, throwing him off balance, forcing him to lean against a table. "Fine, fine! Not a guinea pig." He said, chuckling as he pushed the feathery appendage away from his face. "I'm done measuring, give me a second while I put on the suit."

Harry nodded, hefting himself up to sit in the desk, staring expectantly at the other with tired emerald eyes. He opened the Mark III suit and stepped in it, feeling it close mechanically as he did so. If he had to be honest, he felt a kind of thrill whenever he downed the suit on, which, he guessed, was adrenaline.

Should the Mark III come to light, which it eventually would, secrets like these were hard to keep from the press when he himself wanted to show the world what his new technology would be able to do, it was bound to cause questioning from the public. Pepper had already done it, wondering out loud why he was doing a weapon when he had explicitly said that Stark Industries wouldn't continue in that direction. They, probably, wouldn't understand even if he explained to them, but he, for once, wanted to do some good in the world and try to mend the wrongs he had committed, besides, the suit had the repulsors, which couldn't kill anyways. Sure, there also were other weapons integrated, but those were for his own plans.

"Ready?" Hearing the other male's voice, he couldn't help but to smile, face hidden from view. Although they had only known each other for not that long, he at least had the certainty that he wouldn't be alone should things go downhill.

"I was born ready, Cherub."

"...Really, Tony?" He deadpanned before shaking his head. "That isn't even creative."

"Would you prefer Seraphim?"

"I'd prefer if you dropped the angel nicknames."

"Admit it, deep down you love them."

"You wish, Anthony." He rolled his eyes. "I'll Apparate us to a place I know is hidden from outside view, if that's okay with you."

"Oh, okay, interesting." He mused, guessing that it was some sort of magic infused place. "Tips to prevent travel-sickness?"

"Take a deep breath and try to keep your back straight. It won't make it go away, but it will lessen the effects."

"I can manage that."

Even though this time he wasn't taken by surprise by the magic that pressed and pulled into him, it didn't stop the horrible feeling of emptiness and frenetic movement that it had brought on last time they traveled this way. The feeling of not existing yet being aware of every fiber of his body and the metal of his suit pressing harshly against his skin.

It stopped, probably lasting only a couple of microseconds, but it had felt like an eternity. The Mark III felt far heavier than what he remembered. He quickly opened it, exiting and taking deep breaths of fresh air. He felt a hand rubbing his back in awkward circles, which helped him feel a little more grounded.

"Yup, definitely need to get rid of that horrible feeling." He mumbled whilst groaning. When Harry didn't answer, he forced himself to look up. "Harry?" He asked, straightening up slowly. He had his eyes glued to some rather archaic looking ruins, glistening with what looked like unshed tears. He put a hand in his shoulder, trying to get his attention. "Harry, what's wrong? Are you having another panic attack?" That seemed to do the trick, for troubled emerald eyes turned at him.

"No...no, I'm fine, sorry. Are you okay?"

"Don't worry, I am." He answered, not trusting the other's words at all.

But Harry didn't hear Tony's reply, because, in his head, he only heard a single sentence being whispered to him, it's voice filled with desperation.

' _They'll never forgive us.'_

...Maybe he had made a mistake by choosing to come back to Hogwarts after all this time.


	18. Chapter 15

**Chapter fifteen**

 **The spark**

Only when Harry's eyes seemed to fill again with their mysterious light did he step back into the suit, hearing it click as it closed neatly, although that didn't mean that he let his guard down right away, he was starting to get used to the male suddenly snapping into another emotional state, not that it was a good thing, but he would take what he could get at the moment.

"Do I even want to know why we are in the middle of archaic ruins, possibly trespassing onto private property?"

"I told you, this place is hidden from view, the only reason as to why you could even enter was because I was holding onto you."

"Mind telling me _where_ we are, then?"

"Scotland."

"Oh, wow, very informative, thanks."

"Well, sorry Tony, I didn't know that saying 'Hogwarts, near Hogsmeade' would be much of a help for you."

"I think I'll file for a kidnapping case with your tendency to take me to the middle of nowhere, should I assume that you want some alone time with me, angel boy?." Harry rolled his eyes and snapped a wing at him, but, this time, it only hit metal. "Seriously though, is this some kind of wizard settlement or something?"

"Kind of...it...used to be a school." He spoke almost warily and Tony caught onto it fairly quickly, so he decided to stay quiet, turning so that he knew that he was listening, waiting to see if the male added to it. Harry squirmed a bit under the scrutiny, but he eventually kept going. "It was destroyed after the battle of Hogwarts, in 1998, I think...It used to be a wizard-only school, one of the best in the world, nowhere was as secure as Hogwarts, or so they said..."

"There are others?" He asked, deciding to tread the safest route, leaving the other, more interesting one for later, the younger one seemed to appreciate it.

"Yeah, all around the world."

"Haven't you ever...I don't know, wanted to go there?"

"...Sometimes, yeah...but I don't really have a way of knowing where they are, so I never bothered searching." He smiled a bit. "Either way, it doesn't matter, we have more important things to do at the moment."

"Right." He agreed with a curt nod. "What will you be trying out?"

"I was thinking of a Patronus charm. It was one of my signature spells back in the day."

"Sounds cool enough, mind if I watch?"

"Not at all."

Harry pooled magic in his hand, letting it become a visible mass. He frowned, feeling it spike, wanting to get out of his control, but he did what he could to reel it in. It let it's disgruntlement known by lashing back twice as hard. Magic, on its own, was already difficult to perform, the last thing he needed was for it to actively be against him. It started being a light, ethereal looking

blue, almost like a mist, so he took it as a good sign as he stretched his arms, palms pointing towards a lone pillar.

" **Expecto...PATRONUM**!"

Tony watched as blue was quickly tinted with a sickening green as it shot out of his hands, aggressively tearing against the ground and destroying what it touched until it collided against the pilar. At first, he was amazed by the amount of damage that it left in its stead, not even a speck of the construct being left behind, still surprised with how powerful the younger one turned out to be. His amazement quickly turned into worry when he heard a cry from the wizard, who pulled his hands back and collapsed to the ground, holding his palms to his armpits. The genius quietly kneeled next to him.

"Everything okay?"

"...I fucked it up."

"You did? That thing looked pretty powerful to me."

"It's not..." He winced "That isn't what it should do." He sounded awfully frustrated

"How is it supposed to be then?"

"A Patronus charm summons a guardian, not a death ray." He grumbled apprehensively looking down at his hands, red from the energy irradiated by his wayward magic. "Mine used to be a magical dog breed, a grim."

"Oh...yeah, you did fuck it up."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Are your hands okay, though? It looked like it hurt."

"It was more the surprise and sudden pain, don't worry, it wasn't as bad as it looked." He sighed, straightening up. "But that settles it, I'm hopeless."

"You've just started, don't be such a fatalist."

"Okay then, almost hopeless." Tony huffed from beneath the suit's mask.

"Don't you have a way to control the output of your magic?"

"Output?"

"I mean the magic that goes out. Something that can act as a resistance to prevent your magic from exploding outwards."

Harry bit his lip, knowing that, as a matter of fact, he did have a focus that he could use, but he hadn't in such a long time that he wasn't sure he was looking forward to it. He looked down at his hands, skin red due to the massive heat of his magic. He knew that it was stupid to even try without a wand, but he had once reached that point of power, hadn't he?

A part of him had hoped he didn't need to use the infamously known Elder Wand.

"I do…" He mumbled with reluctance. Although he couldn't see Tony, he could practically feel the other raise an eyebrow in questioning.

"Well, then use it." He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, which it was.

He nodded and lifted up a trembling hand. He willed his magic to give him death's relic of power, feeling the magic run towards his hand, quickly materializing into a physical form. Tony's suit caught onto a shift on Harry's chest, right where the arc reactor was on his. From the suit's magic-scanner, a feature that he had been able to include thanks to his constant researching of the younger one's energy, a cold point formed, showing the form of a line, inside a circle, inside a triangle, although the line had slowly vanished until it was part of the mostly uniform red that indicated the presence of magic. A stick had appeared in Harry's palm.

"Try it again now, see if it works better."

"Fine." He took a deep breathe, feeling the connection that he shared with the Hallow. It felt cold to the touch, so unlike his wild magic that, as he held the death stick, had somewhat calmed down. " **Expecto Patronum."** He said, voice not as confident as before.

This time, there was no ray of destruction, instead it flowed in particles that made a light-green mist. It was nowhere near the form of a dog, but it was less dangerous and a lot closer to the first stages that Harry barely remembered when practicing the spell at the beginning. Tony expected him to be upset, but the younger one had a small smile on his face despite the obvious failure.

"Happy?" He ventured, getting a nod in return.

"Yeah, it's not my Guardian, but it's a start."

"Good. Isn't there an easier spell or something? It sounds like this one is very up there."

"But it wasn't that difficult." He didn't remember how long it had taken him to master it, but he did know that everyone praised him for being the youngest one to achieve it…

"What was the first one that you learned?"

Harry frowned, trying to make memory of what it was. He kind of remembered was with one Terry Boot, a sharp Ravenclaw who had been a great strategist during the Battle of Hogwarts; although they weren't very close friends, they usually paired up for any classes that he shared with the eagles. And speaking of the house of blue, wasn't Flitwick the one giving class?

"Wingardium Leviosa, a levitating spell." He said with a hint of uncertainty.

"Start with the basics, it should help." Tony looked at the horizon, where the sun was slowly falling, nearing sunset with each minute that passed. "I'll do a test flight, you focus on practicing."

"Aye, Captain." Harry said, the smile coming back to his features.

And so, they both set to do their own thing. Harry had half the mind to berate the genius as he sometimes caught him doing stunts and faints; honestly, he didn't know why he worried so much when he used to do the same thing when he was on a broom. He looked at where the Quidditch pitch used to be and gave out a nostalgic sigh.

He lifted his wand, the voice of Terry replaying in his head, saying 'Swish and Flick'. He did so, calling loud and clear the command and looking at the rubble. Three small rocks levitated shakily, much to his embarrassment. He let them fall and concentrated on how he said the words, repeating them under his breath many times and focusing on the intent of lifting more off the floor.

" **Wingardium Leviosa."** The spell did its trick, this time lifting a mass of rocks. He felt his heart beat faster with excitement, the bird-like appendages on his back ruffled along with his emotions. "It is easy...it's easy!" He exclaimed, only for the rocks to suddenly shoot in all directions, eliciting a yelp from him as he shifted his wings so that they formed a protective cocoon around him.

The onslaught was brief, but it left the muscles beneath the black, glistening feathers sore. He groaned, wings twitching slightly as they folded once more. He heard the familiar sound of repulsors from behind him and was surprised to find that Tony had felt the need to come down at all when he looked like he enjoyed flying so much.

"Everything alright?"

"Weren't you testing your suit?" Tony put his hands up in the air, letting the suit open along with it as he stepped out.

"I was, kind of difficult with the constant concern of you hurting yourself."

"I'm not made of glass, Tony, you don't have to worry." He rolled his eyes.

"If I don't, then who will take care of you, my dear suicidal angel?" The older one said with a small smirk and placed a hand over the edge of one of his wings, getting a flinch and a resentful glare in response. "See?"

"...Fine, yes, probably got a bit scraped."

"To be honest? I'm not surprised, those things shot back at you with near bullet-like force. Maybe I'll have to make the material of the Heaven-Sent less fragile."

Harry nodded a little, feeling a blush start to bloom on his cheeks as warm fingers trailed down the wings, probing to see if he had any other wounds other than superficial ones. He stilled when they got too close to the base of the wings, feeling oddly ticklish at the caress of the overly-sensitive point.

"Huh, I wonder how the bones and muscles are placed for these to work..."

"They're made of magic." He said, almost too fast.

"They look and feel pretty solid to me."

The emerald eyed wizard ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm down his radically beating heart; it beat so fast, that he feared that he might be having another attack or a vision. He didn't know what triggered the latter as of yet, so it put him considerably on edge. Still, although his breathing did become quicker for a bit, he didn't feel the numbness take over him or the pain inside his head. Instead, it was paired with a deep tranquility if not a slight nervousness, although it did translate to him being rendered speechless.

"Harry?"

The mentioned male blinked with surprise, after all, it hadn't been the genius who had spoken. He looked up, not realizing that he had tilted his head down in an attempt to not make any eye contact at all.

He was left shocked when he saw that, just on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, a lone figure stood on all fours, looking both proud and confused as it lowered it's bow. It stepped closer into the light and he heard the older male behind him make a bewildered noise.

To be honest, he had thought that centaurs were no longer there.


	19. Chapter 16

**Chapter sixteen**

 **Breathing shard of the past**

It was like some sort of dam broke. One second he was all fine and dandy, although slightly nervous, the next he felt his cheeks wet with trails of tears. He couldn't speak, shocked beyond belief, but Tony heard his sniffles, immediately covering his view from the centaur, probably thinking that he had been scared by the monster or something alike. In hindsight, centaurs could be terrifying with their huge size and strong stares…

The truth was, his chest ached. He wasn't out of breath and he was pretty sure that he hadn't dissociated. He felt in control, but he still couldn't stop the tears from falling. Again, images flashed in his mind, but these weren't like those disoriented predictions. They were nostalgic and painful.

He remembered walking through these woods once upon a time. Someone walked by his side...who was it?...The memory shard wasn't quite clear, appearing fuzzy, but he swore he saw red hair. In his mind, a name bloomed that made his blood boil despite not knowing completely why: Ron Weasley. He knew that he was angry with Ron...at Ron? How could he clear his memories?

He focused harder on the whisper of the past, unwilling to let go of the fragile connection. He remembered falling, an intense pain on his forehead, right where his faded scar was. He remembered a lot of silver, not only from his clothes, but something else's. There was also screaming. He was alone, he was afraid. Ron was nowhere to be seen either. _Died. The unicorns were also dead. Red. Had he killed red?_

He was aware of the stinging sensation that his magic created on his fingers. He felt cold and weak and, suddenly, he couldn't breathe! He choked, unable to support his own weight but being held by strong arms to prevent him from falling. A second shadow loomed over them, but he couldn't see who it was. There was a voice, drowned by someone's painful screams. He tried to take deep breaths, but it was like he was underwater. Weakly, he tried to push himself away from whoever had their arms around him, but he was quickly getting tired. Still, the arms pulled away from him, letting him have his space.

Even though he was dimly aware of the fact that he was having another anxiety attack, he was unable to stop it. His desperation fuelled his fear. He felt like it was never going to stop, like he was useless even when dealing with himself. He stared at nothing, only seeing shadows that danced in his vision as his body trembled. Slowly, he started to be able to hear a calm voice that was far away.

"Good, that's it. Breath in and out, you're doing great. Nothing's going to go wrong, you're here in the forest." It encouraged. He was trying, but it wasn't working! Why wasn't it over? He didn't want this- "It'll be gone soon, I promise." He wanted it to be gone now, but he knew that the voice was telling the truth. Some sort of warmth enveloped him. It wasn't a physical touch, but rather like being bathed in warm water. He curled up tightly, shivering as the cold of the forest started to penetrate his bones. He took violent mouthfuls of air, coughing aggressively in response to the raw pain in his throat. His vision steadily changed from shadows to blurs to figures. "See? Just like that." Surely enough, all strength started to seep out of his body. His heart, while still fast, wasn't about to burst out of his rib cage, although it still hurt.

He first recognized the soft, blue glow from the arch reactor in Tony's chest and, every time he blinked, he recognized the golden hue of his soul, which he had gotten used to. He was a few feet away, but it was enough to chase away the remnants of the panic attack, leaving him like a doll, sprawled on the floor. As he came to, however, he realized that it hadn't been Tony's voice who had guided him through those last pieces of frantic feelings, because he looked anything but calm. The centaur, on the other hand, looked as impassive as always.

"F-firenze?" He asked, feeling his throat sting

"Don't talk, you're bound to be hurting at the moment."

He blinked and tried to get up, but his body felt too heavy, managing only to sit in a more comfortable position. He heard, more than saw, that Tony had walked up to him again, sitting down on the floor with his blue eyes eyes filled with a pure concern that overwhelmed the now emerald-eyed male.

"I-I hate th-this…" He muttered, gasping when another coughing fit assaulted him. "It's th-the sec-ond tod-day." And it had felt far worse than the one earlier.

"I know, it's been a...rough day." The man said with a sad voice, lending him a hand to help him up. The mere gesture was exhausting and, either way, he couldn't remain standing for long, having to find support on the other, breathing deeply whilst doing so. He closed his eyes, feeling for his magic only to find it...gone. For a second, his heart started picking up once more, only to be soothed by the same warm feeling from before. He couldn't recognize where it came from, though…

"Your magic core is exhausted and your mind probably isn't in primal state right now, I'd recommend you to rest." Firenze said, stepping closer to them. Tony quickly took a step back, shielding him with his own body, blinking as if he himself was startled by the motion. The centaur shook his head, hanging his bow over his shoulder. "I mean no harm, non-magical. My kind would never dare to hurt Harry Potter after all he has done for every one of us."

"Sorry if I'm apprehensive, but seeing you probably triggered the panic attack, I'm not risking that again."

"I'm fine, Tony…" The wizard said drowsily, having already caught his breath, eyelids seemingly heavy with how slow his blinks were. "We'll be leaving, I'll just apparate us and-"

"You're too tired to do that. Do you want to splinch yourself once more?"

Instead of doing the thing anyways, like Tony thought he might've, the smaller one winced, visibly trying to hide from the penetrating gaze that was laid upon him by the centaur. It was almost like watching someone scold a child; of course, he wouldn't know, he wasn't suited to be around children, but he guessed that this is what is looked like.

"No..."

"Again?" The Stark didn't know what splinching was either, but he really didn't like the sound of that.

"Yes, quite the irresponsible child he was. Students under fifth year aren't supposed to try apparating, much less doing so inside Hogwarts grounds. Some centaurs were out patrolling when they found him bleeding in the forest, passed out. It was a miracle that we got to him in time, we might've lost him earlier than we did." The centaur said with annoyance.

Under normal circumstances, Harry might've been puzzled, but, despite how tired he felt, the image in his mind was slightly clearer than before. It was his second year, right after everyone discovered that he was a Parselmouth. He couldn't remember much about that year, but he did know that he had been carrying around this book...it explained how to apparate and he, all too eager to prove himself to be a good student, had tried it out. Next thing he knew, he was in the Hospital Wing and he was being berated by Madam Pomfrey.

With an exhausted sigh, Harry rested his head against Tony's chest, closing his eyes for a moment, feeling light yet as if the world was crashing down on him. Firenze looked down at them with a hint of melancholy before he lowered himself to their level.

"I can't leave you two out here with a clear conscience after everything that Harry has done for us. Help him up, we'll grant both of you shelter until you're rested enough to use your magic to go back home."

Even though Tony still didn't fully trust Firenze -which, in his defense, was very much justified seeing as he was several times taller than them thanks to the size of the horse half- he knew that his smaller companion had tired himself out. Proof of his distress, his magic had lashed out in a way similar to when he slept, but, this time, it did try to hurt anything that was even remotely close. He was barely saved by the magical creature, who had pulled him away just as a tendril snapped at the ground beneath him, leaving a bright scorch mark.

He carefully helped the pseudo-god up, making sure that he wouldn't fall by making sure that he was sort of balanced, there was only so much he could do with the other's limited help.

"Follow me, friend of Harry." The centaur then said, entering the forest at a calm pace as to not disturb the one who had defeated the dark lord. He didn't know if he should let his suit out in the open. He knew that Harry had said that nobody would be able to find them there, but Bullseye had, so he wasn't so fond of the idea of abandoning the fruit of their hard work. He put the Mark III suit on, quickly going after the half-horse to not let it out of his sight.

They walked in what, to him, was an uncomfortable silence. The half-animal didn't seem one to start conversations and, in this situation, he wasn't either. What could he even talk about anyways? The only thing that they both had in common was the short wizard that was currently out cold.

Oh, right, speaking of-

"How did you help him relax like that? I don't think he was even listening to me back there if he even recognized me..."

"...Truth to be told, it hasn't been the first time that I have witnessed young Harry in this state, however, it is the first time that it has been triggered by me." Firenze explained in a quiet voice, conscious of the fact that the one on his back could probably hear him louder with how close he was. He doubted it'd wake him up, but he didn't want to disturb the much needed rest. "Back when he was a student, he came to the forest many times, some of them hyperventilating, but this is a lot worse than I remember." A reluctant thought crossed Tony's mind.

"I'm going to regret this-" He mumbled to himself and took a deep breath. "Do you think you can teach me?"

"Don't get me wrong, I'd like to do it, but it'd be nearly impossible for you to learn how since I don't do it on my own."

"What do you mean?"

"...Strangely enough, I believe that it isn't me that actually calms Harry. Yes, I speak to him, but it isn't only me who has done so and we all have had different methods when dealing with these attacks. We think that it is more linked to whom we represent."

"What? Are you death's minions as well?"

"I'm afraid not, that task befalls the thestrals."

"Then who?"

"It's merely a silly thought, after all, she already died some time ago, but we think that it's Skadi's presence that calms his soul."

"Okay, you just lost me, who is Skadi?"

"Our goddess."

"Ah, then it does make sense. Hecate just told us earlier of this plan to make Harry some mix of gods that fucked him up." The image of the tainted soul was still imprinted behind his eyelids and it made him infinitely angry. He almost didn't notice that the centaur had suddenly stopped. When he turned, his eyes were lit with pure fury.

"Those stupid gods, meddling in others' businesses." Firenze actually growled. "If she weren't my goddess' child, we would've already declared war on them. Our goddess would never put such a burden on a kid and was deeply hurt when she was forced to leave this plane."

"Woah, wait, wait, wait, back up. You said _child._ "

"Yes, always ungrateful. She and her brother deserved to be banished from the other realms after what they did to our beautiful goddess, who's kindness knew no bounds when it came to her children." Other than Harry, Tony didn't think he'd ever hear someone that loathed the gods so much, but he was proven wrong. Besides, this was new information to him, did Harry know of this? No, he probably didn't.

"What about her brother?"

"Freyr. That one wasn't as bad, or so I was told by our goddess before she vanished, as his sister, but we still hold against him the fact that he didn't help his own mother when she was dying by Aesir hands before she came to Midgard."

"Do you know what was his name after he was banished?" The centaur turned to look at him with confusion.

"Freyr never lost his name. He just was called by one of the forces that he and his sister once commanded."

"Was?"

"Yes, was..."

The way that Firenze spoke sent shivers down Tony's spine. Something told him that the answer to his next question would be important and it actually made him doubt whether he wanted to know what it was. He steeled his nerves and ventured into the conversation once more.

"What was his name?" The half-horse stared at him as if the answer was obvious.

"Freyr and his sister were gods of many things, but one was the rarest one of them all, for it also gave them the power to manipulate a soul." The centaur explained, closing his eyes. "His name was Death."

 **Fucking finally, I can't even remember how many times I wrote a single page and deleted it immediately (And even still it took me forever to write on the one I was satisfied with). Chapters are getting awfully difficult to write, which is a bother when I'm so excited to write what's to come, uggggh! Again, sorry for the long wait, hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


	20. Chapter 17

**Chapter seventeen**

 **Heavenly Hail**

He groaned as the feeling started to return to his sore limbs. His head panged with pain, forcing him to stay lying down on...whatever he was. It took him a while to notice how cold everything was. It wasn't cold as in 'night cold' either… Slowly, he cracked his eyes open, blinking quickly when he felt them water by the harsh brightness around him.

"T-tony?" He called, but no one answered. As a matter of fact, his voice hadn't bounced off against any walls. "Guys?" He whispered, this times stronger. Again, there was no response. He squeezed his eyes shut one more time before he pushed himself up with his elbows.

It was a startling surprise to hear a familiar crunch under his skin or to feel the wetness of cold water on his back. His head turned to his legs, seeing that there was indeed white snow all over the ground and, upon turning his gaze to the horizon, it was clear that it extended for kilometers, if not miles.

His surprise was soon replaced by confusion. He was sure that centaurs did have some sort of settlement and, while Scotland was pretty chilly at the moment, it certainly wasn't to the point of snow. Where had Tony gone? And Firenze? Had he Apparated on accident?

He closed his eyes to focus on his magic, only to discover that...it wasn't there. He was so used to having to mitigate the constant flow of energy that it had taken him a couple of tries to confirm that he it seemed to have vanished into thin air, if that was even possible. He forced himself to take deep breaths, lest he lose himself to the panic.

He stood up, brushing the snow off himself as he decided to try and walk around, see if he recognised any of his surroundings. The cold penetrated his bones mercilessly, but he didn't seem to be bothered by it. If anything, it kept him far more awake, which was a good thing because he didn't think that falling asleep here would be very safe, pseudo-god or not.

Then there was the snowstorm that had started acting up soon after he had pushed himself off the ground. It limited his already poor view and the flakes that fell on his shirt had started to dampen it when they melted. With each exhalation, a small cloud of white formed and Harry could only hope that he would somehow survive the ruthless climate.

And then, in the distance, he spotted a giant shadow with a dim orange glow coming from it.

His body, still aching from whatever he had gone through, pushed itself to the limit in order to reach what was surely a building of sorts. As he got closer, the storm worsened, but his determination didn't falter. After what felt like hours, Harry's hand came in contact with a wooden wall. He touched blindly to find some sort of door and, after a few seconds of frantic searching, he tripped forward as the entrance easily gave in to the small pressure.

He gasped, barely managing to stop himself from crashing into the floor. He quickly regained his senses and tilted his head up in order to look for some owner to the small building, which, he realized, seemed like some temple of sorts, with many fox-like sculptures on small stands and runes on the walls.

"Hello?" He calls, this time a bit more composed. "I-sorry for barging in!" He apologizes swiftly before hurrying up towards where he spotted the glow of orange, finding a fire placed in the center of it all, with two animal statues being depicted not too far away from it. He ignored them in favor of scooting closer to the source of heat, reveling in the warmth that calmed him instantaneously.

It was all so quiet that all he heard was the crackling of the burning wood and his own breathing. Now that everything was less hectic, he gave himself some time to think. What was this place? Why couldn't he feel his magic in his body? Or Death's blessing? He'd be lying if he said a small part of him didn't feel relieved. All these years, ever since he had discovered he had magic, he had only wanted to be normal. The desire had only become stronger when he died, but now...he couldn't bring himself to enjoy it fully. He was lost and, despite how much he hated the energy that constantly fought against him and that reminded him of how incapable he was, it at least protected him and made him feel not-so-vulnerable.

He jumped when he felt a chilling breeze on his back, making a shiver run down his spine. He turned to see if there was an open window, only to be left speechless when he stared right at a shadowy figure that seemed to be distorted for some reason. It didn't speak at first, merely looking down at him with green...no, not green, teal eyes. It didn't move either, just...stood there.

Yet, despite what his first instinct to back away screamed at him, he couldn't help but to stay frozen. It wasn't even from fear, but rather by the feeling that he knew this person from...somewhere else. Even though he couldn't even see the figure clearly, which was concerning since it was almost directly in front of the fire. It just flickered like some sort of hologram before it kneeled, its powerful gaze searching his soul.

" _What are you doing here?_ " It asked, but Harry had no way to respond, he didn't even know where he was in the first place, much less what brought him here. " _I see, so you haven't come here on purpose...It does make some sense, Freyr said you'd only be able to find me once you recovered his full power and, I must say, I can't feel it in you yet. I can't say that I'm not happy to see you after all these years."_

At the obvious intruding in his thoughts, he tried to throw up an occlumency shield, only then remembering that he lacked his magic. The figure seemed to catch into his attempt as well, making a smirk-like noise and shifting away from the fire, closer to the window, where Harry was capable to see glimpses of strangely bright red-colored hair.

" _Worry not, child, for I seek not to hurt you._ " It assured him with a hint of pain in it's voice before reverting back to a completely neutral tone -or was it a she? It sounded like a woman…-. " _I am Skadi, goddess of winters, huntings, vengeance and death._ " She said, tearing her gaze away from him. " _And you are currently in a makeshift temporary realm created by my son for me to inhabit while my soul recovered._ "

Harry let out a strangled gasp in alarm. Never before had he been completely defenseless against a god and, now that he found himself in that position, he could only feel utterly terrified, however, as his anxiousness slowly rose, it met with an odd sense of utter calmness that didn't feel natural.

" _As I said, I do not intend to bring harm to your person. You can have my world._ " Something rumbled in the distance. " _You weren't meant to find this place at the moment, however, I am willing to...conversate, since this is such an odd occurrence and I can sense the struggle that you have been in. Tell me, young pseudo-god, what troubles you?_ "

"What did you do to my magic?" He croaked, eyes immediately narrowing. The shadow shifted and, although he couldn't see what she was doing, he somehow knew that she had taken on a thoughtful pose, with her hand on her chin and head tilted aside.

" _Such is the rule that I stated over this realm. No other being other than I is capable of using their own abilities. I'm afraid that this is necessary to keep myself safe from my enemies, so I can't remove this feature._ " Harry gulped and nodded, looking down at himself, only to notice that his fingers were completely black and behaved like mist. He had been so distracted by the snowstorm that he hadn't taken heed to the obvious change. " _I believe that Freyr added that. It is mainly to keep our identities safe from whoever manages to enter this place. I doubt that he'd want you to be hurt, considering all that he did._ "

For some reason, when she mentioned this 'Freyr', the image of his predecessor flashed in his mind, with his red eyes, platinum blond hair and sharp horns. A part of him stirred at the memory before subsiding, leaving him with only a feeling of sadness.

"Why am I here?" He asked before a flare of anger invaded him. "What did you do to Tony?"

" _Tony?_ " She stayed silent for a moment, but he could read the confusion in her eyes as clear as day. " _Ah, the metal-hearted man that accompanies you?_ "

"Yes, him."

" _Rest assured, I haven't even touched him, if that's what worries you. The only one who appeared in my realm was you due to the connection you can feel between us. Now, young one, I'll repeat my question. What troubles your soul?_ "

"I…" At the mention of his soul, he squirmed, glad that his own power was being blocked, since his magic might heighten his strong feelings of insecurity. "It doesn't matter, it's not like there's anything that can be done about it."

" _Tell me, you never know._ " Her figure flickered and, before he could react, she had already taken a seat beside him, yet he couldn't bring himself to be scared and, as a matter of fact, he felt as if he could trust her unconditionally…

"I-I.." He stuttered slightly and let out a pitiful sigh. "It's horrible."

" _Few things are horrible when you've lived as long as I to appreciate the little things. Would you let me take a look?_ "

"It's not like I can stop you..."

" _True, however, I'd like you to trust me. Even gods have their morals."_

Harry searched desperately for some sort of resistance on his part, something that screamed at him danger, but he couldn't find it. He knew that, even though he was susceptible to mind-control, he could at least feel such abilities come to life. Right now, he could do nothing.

"...Fine."

She reached out and, without touching him, placed a hand over his chest. The pair of teal eyes shone like two bright stars in the middle of the night as she slowly pulled her arm back, revealing the orb that he had seen so recently, although it seemed, for once, to be static, the tentacles of magic frozen like deadly spikes. It was worrying, however, that the black seemed to have expanded slightly since this morning.

" _I see...they dared interfere with something so sacred..._ "

"What are you on about?"

" _My child, I believe that, even without the blessing of the vanquished gods, you would've attained divinity._ " Harry sucked in a sharp breath at the newfound information, eyes wide. He was unaware of how Skadi's voice seemed to tighten as she went on speaking." _Your DNA, although dormant, already had traces of divine parenthood. Your death was, by all means, unnatural, so it slowed the process down, and that others are forcing their own divinity into you is just-_ " Her fingers, still obscured by shadows, traced the sphere that surrounded his soul. " _And you have denied yourself for so long that the effects are visible in your soul. Both your mind and your body need to heal in order to accept the gifts that have been given to you...Including these ones, that are protecting you for the moment…_ "

"H-how...how can you be so sure?"

" _I did say that I was a goddess of death. It's all here so clearly, like reading an open book. Feelings, experiences, fates. Everything intertwined in such a way that you can only see them when you know what you're looking for...Is there anything else you wish to know, bearer of power?_ "

"Do I...know you from somewhere?"

Despite being unable to see her face, he swore that she was smiling as she said a single " _Yes, you do._ " But not elaborating any further, which was frustrating. He was unaware if Hecate had known of what this goddess spoke about…

" _Don't think about it too much. Worry about healing and, when the time comes, you'll see me again and, I hope, it is under much better circumstances..._ "

"You say that as if I was leaving." She didn't speak, instead taking his hand into her own, lifting it up for him to see. The darkness in his hand had started to vanish into wisps in the air, a sense of morbid fascination taking over him as he watched it slowly disappear. As he looked down at himself, he noticed that it was happening to his whole body.

" _Please, do try to take care about yourself, many have worried -and will continue to worry- about you, think of them a little before acting as rashly as you tend to._ "

To his ears, her voice was also fading. His body was overcome by the tiredness that he had managed to push back and he could only stare at his surroundings without speaking. The shadow-woman never let go of him, even when his hands had disappeared, he could still feel the firm, caring grasp.

His eyes wandered towards the animal statues that had been left behind them. They widened when he spotted a familiar shape imprinted on the fox's chest. He made a strangled noise, filled with shock as he tried to speak a final question, but he couldn't. His vision was blackening quickly and he couldn't do anything about it.

 _Worry not, young godling. All questions will be answered in time…_

There was a bright, orange flash that blinded him and he knew no more, the mark of the Deathly Hallows imprinted in his eyelids.

...

He felt as if he was floating in nothingness. He didn't know times or places, just that he wanted to move. He screamed, tried to move, but nothing, his body was unresponsive. He tried harder, managing to see a light at the end of the darkness. He reached out to it and, as if called by an accio, it was being pulled towards him and-ah, no, he was being pushed towards it. He screamed in absolute fear, feeling as if he was about to hit it.

He thrashed, taking gulps of air into his lungs and feeling his whole body wet with sweat. He shivered, feeling hands on his shoulders trying to pin him down. His sight was blurry, but panic filled him quickly at the lack of the distinguishable blue light that he had grown used to seeing.

"W-where is he?" He choked out, feeling a hot hand on his forehead. "Where's Tony?"

"First calm down. You are in a safe place."

"N-no, I-"

"Young Harry, you are safe, as is your companion. He left not too long ago."

The word days echoed in his ears. He snapped back into focus, feeling his feverish magic acting up once more, forcing him to jostle it down with mere strength of will. He was able to recognize Firenze in his frenzy, along with two other, smaller centaurs who were frantically searching for things in some of the vases in the room. The scent of medicine hit him like a train and made him dizzy. He groaned as he settled down, heart pounding erratically.

"We're glad to have you back, Harry Potter."

"H-how long w-was I…?" He winced at the pain that stung his throat. Had it been that long? No, it was the pain of having overused his voice, had he-had he screamed his head off or something?

"About two weeks." The centaur said with a soft sigh of relief. "We were scared when you didn't wake up, only to be notified by the healers that you had gone into a magical comma which, oddly enough, stopped you own magic from flowing. Anthony Stark was here for the first couple of days, but left before the first week was over since we didn't have the resources to keep him in good health. We promised to watch over you in his absence..."

Harry nodded, but he couldn't help but to feel that something was horribly wrong. His magic was buzzing in the same way it did whenever something important was about to happen and he couldn't even explain why he immediately thought of Tony, other than the fact that his soul was tainted golden by the blessing of the gods and, by experience, he could say that trouble always found a golden soul.

"I have to leave."

"Harry, your magic isn't stable enough-"

"No, Firenze, I _have_ to."

"Even then, I can't let you leave, you were screaming"

"I won't even use my magic, I'll stick to shadow travel. It requires more energy but it's less riskier than Apparition." He argued. His magic became a beast, throwing itself against his self-control. What was going on? Why did he feel so agitated?

There was a loud commotion outside, which only added to his anxiousness. Both, however, jumped in action, fearing that they might be under attack if the shouts were anything to go by. There was an angel with two pairs of wings trying desperately to breach the centaurs' defenses, who responded in kind by shooting arrows. He looked alarmed, feathers ruffled as he kept pushing and shoving.

"Halt the attack!" Ordered the leader of the centaurs.

As soon as they stopped, the angel darted through them, looking right at him in alarm, barely slowing down to not crash into them. It was a weird thing to see an angel so worried. Not even when they discovered that there were blessed souls missing had they made much of a ruckus.

"Lucifer?" He asked, feeling weak.

"Master of Death, it's your friend!" He said, looking genuinely worried. "He's dying, you must hurry!"

Without a second thought, he disappeared in a sharp crack of magic.


	21. Chapter 18

**Chapter eighteen**

 **Heartbeat**

His apparition left him right in the middle of the living room, crashing against a sofa as if he were flying at high speed. His wings ruffled and he pushed himself up before scanning the room with wide, dilated, golden pupils.

"Tony!"

There was no response, so he tried to see the other's soul, but everything in the place was so filled with technology that, unless he was right in front of him, he wouldn't be able to distinguish him correctly. He even went to the workshop and bedrooms, but he hadn't found him there. He gave a frustrated shout before he his eyes zeroed on one of the many cameras inside the mansion.

"J-jarvis!" He called the AI, stopping abruptly. "Where's Tony?"

"In the lowest level."

He didn't even need clarifications and, knowing how much it would take for the elevator to go up and down, he ran for the stairs. He tripped twice and, when he arrived to the place where all the cars were parked, he panicked, since he didn't see the male at first sight. His golden eyes, however, were perfectly able to see the flickers of light slowly vanishing into the darkness, sprawled against the floor, barely moving.

He felt a familiar knot in his throat as he rounded one of the vehicles, noticing that one of the workbenches had been pushed. He tried not to freeze as Tony's body came into view, face down and completely still, arms pale and veins popping out like sore bruises on his skin.

He could hear the blood in his ears as he kneeled down, trying to turn the other around while pushing the glass on the floor away, barely noticing that some of the shards found their way into his skin. He was unaware if anything was wrong inwardly and, not wanting to risk making an explosion with his magic by using a diagnostic spell, he focused his attention to the Arc Reactor. He might not be as familiar with the technology as Tony was, but he was smart and attentive enough to recognize that this wasn't the one he had been wearing and, more importantly, that it wasn't _glowing_.

With trembling hands, he took it out of the other's chest, trying not to pay attention to the now gaping hole that it left in its absence. He made sure that it was properly connected, which it was, he would know, and it made him wonder just why it _wasn't turning on_. He tilted the object and, to his surprise, a familiar set of runes greeted him.

It was then that he recognized the Arc Reactor as the one that Tony had built out of scraps and junk back in Afghanistan. He had specifically configured it by letting it accept magic to recharge so that it wouldn't malfunction inside of Grimmauld. Trying to calm himself down -and failing miserably- he scrambled to push the glorified battery into Tony's chest once more and, pressing his hands to the unique piece of technology, he searched for his magic, feeling it surge with a vengeance, leaking through his shabby control.

He sent a pulse through his palms and the air tingled as he tried again and again to make the object accept his energy, trying to prevent his own soul from sucking it out of the Reactor once more. It was difficult and, having restrained his magic for so long, it yearned both to consume and to be consumed, making the process ten times more tiring, however, he didn't mind as long as the other would at least breathe again.

"Please, don't be dead…" He whispered, eyes blown wide, feeling as if he had never been more worried before. "Don't die. Whatever you do, don't leave me..." He could see that the soul had stopped disappearing, but...it wasn't coming back.

Tony wasn't waking up either.

"N-no..." He heard screams in his head. They wouldn't stop. Everything was dark again, he was restrained, hands pulled to his back. He recognized the feeling of absolute despair, the feeling of everything being over. That he wouldn't be able to do anything. He remembered empty grey and blue eyes. The confident smirk, the friendly grin, the dreamy smile. He remembered...not being able to save his friends. His dragon, his lion and his moon. He remembered having to run and to fight. Having to lose those that he held dear…

He wouldn't be able to deal with that happening all over again, not with Tony.

"No" He mumbled, perhaps to himself, determined, yet filled with anger as he started pushing his magic even a lot more fervently than before. "No, don't you _dare_ die on me, Anthony!" He roared, energy flaring and spiking, wings stretching at their full height. He tried not to think of how his hands were bloodied or how the air around him was becoming far more electrified than normal, with the sound of cracking glass filling his ears. He also didn't think of how his vision seemed to be permanently blurred by tears. Under his clothes, in his own chest, the mark of the Deathly Hallows became visible, marked by the golden magic that belonged to his predecessor.

He felt his magic spiral out of control like a caged lion, roaring and forming into the tentacle-like shapes, snapping at everything except for the man he was trying to save. He felt his vision blur and fog, almost as if he was in some sort of messed up dream, a horrible nightmare. In the pits of his subconsciousness, something stirred, just as determined to not let Tony die. He whispered the words "Don't go" like a mantra.

Suddenly, there was a hand on his wrist. It took him a moment to pull himself back into reality. There was loud gasping, forcing him to regain focus as fast as possible. His magic slowly died down until he was able to reign it back in with a swift command, pushing himself off of the male and taking a moment to understand what was going on.

Tony was grasping his wrist, looking at him with wide, startled eyes, looking wide awake, like he had just drunk eight cups of coffee. He tried not to pay attention to the squeezing sensation that he felt in his chest and helped him sit, vaguely aware of the fact that the house was dark, like someone had turned off all the lights.

"A-am I dead?" Tony asked with a hoarse voice, but, to Harry, it was the most wonderful sound he had ever heard. "Because all I see is an ange-" Whatever the Stark had been about to say, was cut off by a noise of concern. "...are you crying?"

He was aware that the godling wasn't a sarcastic stone wall like he had first assumed, but someone who had been hurt for so long that it left a very visible mark on him. He was someone who felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, no matter what he did. Someone who was alone and afraid to lose, who had lost hope a long time ago...If that idea hadn't been shattered already, right now it had been turned to dust.

With flushed cheeks, glassy, bloodshot eyes and trails of tears like those that a sled leaves on snow due to his pale complexion, this person looked less like an unstable yet firm wall and more like a crumbling tower, and that...that was the most painful thing for him to see.

He sighed and pushed himself up, ignoring the pain in his chest as he pulled the other to himself, trying not to look as uncomfortable as he felt when dealing with people crying. The younger male clung to him, letting out raw emotion like he had never before, like he couldn't help it.

"Hey, I'm okay..." He muttered softly, not sure of how to calm him down. What's worse is that he knew that he didn't have time to let the other settle down. "Kiddo-er-Harry..." He started, hearing the other's breathing stop abruptly, as if waiting for him to speak. "We have to go, now. I know you're sad, but it's urgent."

"...Why?" His small voice croaked. "You...you almost died, you shouldn't be-"

"It's Obadiah." He growled, unaware of the stronger glow that took place in his chest. "He took the Arc reactor, we have to stop them."

At first, he wasn't sure that the wizard had listened to him, still sniffing softly and refusing to look up at him. Before he could repeat himself, however, Harry slowly detached himself from him, eyes cast downwards with a small sigh. He wasn't sure what was going through his mind and the silence was starting to become unbearably uncomfortable.

"You can stay if you-" Emerald eyes stared up at him once more, looking far more tired than he remembered.

"Stop, just..." He let out a long, drawn-out sigh and attempted to dry his tears with one of his sleeves, glancing briefly at his chest, at the blue that was the only thing that provided them light in the darkness. "...I-I understand..." He muttered with reluctance. A part of him wanted to say no, to knock the other one out and keep him there...but, unfortunately, he knew what was going through the genius' mind. He really was sorry for Draco, who had to deal with this same problem. "I'll go with you."

He sometimes really did hate the people-saving thing.

He helped the other up, walking to where he knew the other tended to leave the Mark III suit. To his surprise, however, there was also a second suit right beside it. It was very light-looking, with two spider-leg-like extensions coming out of the back. The extensions were covered with plates of blue and grey, as was the main armor, and it was outlined with greens. There was a small earphone-like device on top of it.

"What is that?" He asked after a couple of minutes debating whether to ask or not. The other blinked as if confused as to what he was talking about before realization dawned on him.

"It's the Heaven-Sent I, it still needs some improvement, but it's kind of difficult to work without the one who is supposed to wear it here" It took Harry a moment to remember the fact that Tony had, indeed, mentioned working on this...suit? It sort of looked like one. "I think I managed to make it work with magic, but I won't know until you try it out." Harry stared at it for a couple of more seconds and nodded slowly.

"Okay...how do I put it on?"

Admittedly, Tony was a bit excited by the question, immediately helping him put it on and telling him how it worked. It was surprisingly fast and intuitive, if only deterred slightly by their relative lack of sight, although that was also being fixed quickly by their eyes getting used to the darkness. Then he proceeded to put on his own suit before looking at the smaller male with calculating eyes.

"Huh, it's...a bit bigger than I thought..." Tony mumbled with confusion, after all, he was sure that he had gotten the other's measurements right. "But it should still work."

"Perfect, do you know where he might be?"

"...JARVIS, call Pepper, she will know."

The AI immediately connected them to the woman in question and, after three rings, it was answered, but not by the woman they had expected to hear.

"Well, Midgardians." The voice came through, garbled. Harry gasped, new images flashing behind his eyes. A rooftop, bodies on the floor, a metallic being. "You wish to go against destiny? Fine, I'll humour you then. I've made my play, it's your turn." He could almost hear the smile forming in the woman's lips. "You've made enemies with the wrong god."

 **A/N:**

 **I can't remember if I told you all, but I'll be going on a temporary hiatus (I think of about a month, I'll be having a lot of free time since I'm starting my vacations this weekend) and I'm rewriting the prologues+first chapters of this fanfiction, so I won't update new ones for a while. I would advise to take a look at the old ones later on, but I'll try not to change as much...uh...Thanks for reading up until now, everyone, I really do appreciate your continuous support!**


	22. Announcement

Hey everybody!

As you guys can tell this isn't a new chapter but an announcement: I'm deleting my stories on this account (This one I'll delete by the end of the week). Don't get me wrong, I loved it while it lasted and I really do appreciate that you guys took your time to read and were so understanding when I decided to rewrite this, but I found another platform that I enjoy a lot more. I'm uploading this story there and, occasionally, I post it with pictures. Some of you may now of it, but it's Archive of our Own (Ao3) and I go by the same nickname (without the space, only NahomiYokai), so I hope that I see you guys around there.

You can also chat with me personally through my discord (add after the discord webpage: /3EcQNHT) or my Tumblr (Nahomi Yokai)

Once more, thank you all for reading and, if you decide to not follow the story, then I hope you keep having fun by reading the many of other awesome stories that this platform has to offer!

This is Nahomi Yokai, signing off, have a wonderful day.


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